Tom
by l.poe
Summary: Everyone liked Tom. And for the most part, Tom got along with, and liked, everyone. But when Tom really liked someone, sometimes he could get possessive. Sometimes even aggressive and angry. I don't like when Tom gets that way. But if Tom doesn't like me, who would? / AU in which an interesting character comes back to life.
1. Chapter 1

"Ginny, I don't see the big deal," Molly Weasley sighed, running a wrinkling hand into her thick red hair. The morning sunlight was turning her graying streaks into gold as she leaned over her daughter's trunk, giving her an ethereal look.

"Mum, you _don't_ understand. If I can't find it, Tom will be furious." Her hands frantically flew over her armoire, yanking drawers open and spilling and tearing clothes off of the hangers. Behind her, Molly was scooping jumpers, skirts, robes, and knickers up and refolding them, silently replacing them in their drawers. She followed her tornado of a daughter around the room before she finally pulled out her wand.

"Accio, diary," she muttered, looking around the room as something began to rattle loudly. With a heavy sigh, she crossed behind her daughter, and eased open her dirty laundry hamper, the old, worn book rocketing out and ricocheting off of the ceiling. "Why would he care so much if you didn't have this ratty old thing with you anyway? I still think we should buy you a new one," Molly said, leaning down to pick up the old leather book, flipping through it. "There's nothing even written in it, Ginny," she said pausing every few pages.

"Mum, _please_," Ginny said, exasperated. Reaching over, she snatched it out of her mum's hands, running her fingers across its cover and binding lovingly. "It is very important to Tom, I really wouldn't expect you to understand." Out of the corner of her eye she caught her mother's bristling stare, and stammered. "I mean, Mum, its just a silly teenage thing, you know? You're much _smarter_ than that, you know…" Floundering about for words, she walked over to her trunk and dropped the diary among her stockings.

"I'll give you a few hours to think that response through, Ginevra," Molly sniffed. "Get packed, we're leaving soon."

Ginny stared miserably after her mother as she left the room, and then looked around the mess that she had just created. Her robes were hanging out of her wardrobe and trunk like great black oil spills, scarlet and gold ties and stockings thrown about. That didn't even begin to describe the shoes, missing pairs, the spell books, the cauldron that needed a desperate scrubbing, or coating of cat hair that covered it all. Running a hand through her violent red hair, she picked her wand up and spun it thoughtfully through her fingers.

"Scourgify," she whispered, waving her wand across her sheets, watching the cat hair disappear. Not that it would do much good, Nugget would be curled up on her bed in no time.

She hadn't meant to hurt her mother's feelings, she never did. It just so happened that her mother didn't understand her infatuation with one Tom Quandary. He was always perfectly pleasant to Arthur and Molly Weasley. He even got along well with her brothers when they weren't at school. But for some reason her mother could see right through his charm that so many others couldn't. He didn't like it much, but tried not to let it show that it bothered him. He only did when Molly pushed Harry in Ginny's face.

Pushing air out of her lips, Ginny turned away from her bed that she'd just made and waded across the sea of books and robes to her trunk, waving her wand so that her books swooped inside in a neat alphabetized row. It wasn't that her mother didn't want her dating; it was just that she didn't want her dating Tom.

_ But pushing Harry into my face doesn't accomplish anything!_ She thought in frustration. Ginny liked Harry. But she only liked him as a friend. Five years ago, as a little first year, the story had been completely different. She felt her face burn at the memory of that silly valentine she'd sent. _Eyes as green as a fresh pickled toad?_ Seriously, what had she been thinking? But that year had been a blessing and a curse; that was the year she found this diary. The same year she'd met Tom.

She flicked her wand again, this time watching as her robes neatly folded themselves into her trunk, socks and shoes dancing in right after the rest of her wardrobe. Her first year had definitely been an interesting one. The year of the Basilisk, the year Hogwarts almost shut down, the year… she let her mind wander, falling back on her bed with another flick of her wand, letting her cauldron shrink down to a miniscule size after scrubbing itself sparkling, and then land gently in her trunk, her broomstick following right after. Her trunk snapped shut.

It had been an eventful year, her first year, and unfortunately she had been at the center of it. Not that anyone knew. No one ever solved the riddle of The Chamber of Secrets, no one had ever found the great monster, and no one was even locked away for the attacks. It had gone down in Hogwarts' history as another chapter to the legend, brushed under the rug and forgotten about. And the missing boy from Hogsmeade had stayed completely unrelated. And after that, the years remained uneventful- just regular terms. No more run ins with monsters, except for the occasional Forbidden Forest adventure, of course.

She needed to stop. Blinking furiously, Ginny turned her head to the side, trying to change the direction of her thoughts. Tom would know. He always knew when she started thinking things like that. Negative things. Thinking that he was doing something bad, not that he was here to help Harry. But that he was… She shook her head again, this time turning it to look out the windows, watching the early afternoon sunlight bathe the green lawn in gold. Think about something else. Anything else. With one last swish of her wand, she locked her luggage.

It was a relief to have her trunk packed, and it was even more of a relief to have found her diary. That had been frightening, more than frightening, to think that it had been lost. No, there wasn't anything written in it, that was true, but what it contained was more important than any written word. Even she wasn't sure of what it exactly contained.

"Meow."

A soft groan escaped Ginny's lips as Nugget, her blonde fuzz ball of a cat, landed squarely on her stomach from some shelf that towered over her bed. Being the only daughter at The Burrow had its perks, like her own room, and no hand me down robes from her brothers. Reaching up, she laced her fingers into her pet's fur, smiling as the cat purred, its claws kneading into her sweater. So much for cleaning up the cat hair.

Nugget, a name given for its unusually short legs and color, was a gift of Tom's. One of his "I'm sorry's." And Ginny didn't get very many of them, they were moments in the relationship that she savored.

"Come on, Nug," Ginny whispered, moving to cradle the animal in her arms, and sitting up. "We've got to get you ready to go, into the carrier, now," she lowered the still purring animal into the purple cat carrier, lined with soft blankets. "We'll be going back to school soon."

The Easter Holidays had flown by, and she was ecstatic to be returning to school to see her friends. As she shut the cage, there was a light rap on the door.

"Ready to go yet, Gin?"

Another head of bright ginger hair poked through the door, and her older brother Ron looked in on her. A smile broke out across her face.

"Yup! And you're just in time to carry my trunk down for me. Its all loaded up and too heavy to carry." Ron rolled his eyes, ruffling her hair as she walked by, carrying only her cat crate and spring coat.

"Like you can't _Windgardium Leviosa _it yourself?"

"It's _Levi-oh-a_ not _Levio-sah_!" Ginny called over her shoulder with a smirk, laughing as she heard her brother's exasperated growl and something about how just because Hermione says it and its cute doesn't mean that Ginny saying it was cute. Still giggling, she marched down the stairs to the kitchen.

"Where's Ron?" Her mother asked as she bustled around the kitchen, "we need to discuss where we are apparating to so that no one ends up just appearing in the middle of King's Cross."

Ginny moved out of the way, still sensing some hostility in her mother's glance, and picked up a bit of toast from the table, spreading marmalade over its golden surface. With her other hand she took a sausage link, pushing it through the bars of the cat carrier. She sank into one of the old kitchen chairs next to Harry, who had been staying with them for the Easter Holidays.

"_There_ you are, Ronald. Your brother, Percy, always liked to be on time, you know," she said, as Ginny watched her fuss over the new Head Boy of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"I'm not Percy, Mum," Ron muttered, winking at Ginny as he reached over her to grab toast as well, ducking under his mother's hands.

"Yes, well," she said, quietly, watching as her last two children gathered the rest of their things. It had to be bittersweet for her mum, Ginny realized, to be sending her last son off to school. Her last chance at greatness for the Weasley name, too, with Ron being Head Boy. And Ron's best friend was Quidditch Captain, had supposedly defeated Voldemort twice at young ages, and was always a perfect gentleman. They way Ginny saw it, she couldn't do anything to top the rest of her family members.

She stood up to gather her trunk and cat while her mother gave them all distinct directions on how to get to the Ministry garage where their father would pick them up and take them to the station.

"Alright, Ginny, you first. And remember, straight to the car…"

"Really, Quandary, this is getting ridiculous," Draco Malfoy growled as they prowled the train's corridor. "You know she'll get on the train and be sitting in the compartment she is always sitting in. With the people she's always sitting with."

"Her brother got Head Boy this year, remember?" Tom sneered, looking back at his closest school friend, "That means he'll be in the front compartment and she _won't_ be."

"That doesn't mean he is going to leave her there," Draco said in exasperation. Tom rounded on him, his eyes blazing.

"What makes you think you can take that tone of voice with me?" Raising an eyebrow, Draco put a hand up, putting space between the two of them. The train swayed underneath of them as it followed the ancient tracks toward the castle deep in valleys of Britain, and around them bits and pieces of muffled conversation made its way through the compartment's sliding doors.

"Tom, take a breath, I'm just trying to help you keep a level head. You know Weasley is head over heals for you, I don't understand why you would be so afraid as to think she wouldn't be somewhere you could find her…" He watched as the fire in Tom's eyes burned a deeper red before smoking out, and he slumped against the wall of the train, loosening the green and silver tie around his neck.

"You're right, Draco, as you always are. Its just that, well, she spent an entire holiday with that horrid woman…" Amusement flashed across Draco's eyes.

"You know, parents are supposed to be able to see through the charm. They know all we want is to get into their daughter's knickers."

"_Mother's _aren't," Tom said through his teeth. "And that isn't what I want to do."

"Oh, right, because you already have, sorry, I'd forgotten." Draco clapped his friend on the shoulder, pulling him away from the wall. "Let's go find her, shall we?"

Draco Malfoy had met Tom Quandary during their third year at Hogwarts. The same time everyone had- during the sorting ceremony. The buzz that normally stopped for the sorting immediately didn't seem to go away, everyone interested in the tall kid standing in the back. He looked older than a first year, more dignified, and not at all afraid. What was he doing in the line? The talk only got louder when he sat on the stool for a whole 5 minutes. He was the first hatstall in many, many years at Hogwarts. The Slytherin table had happily cheered, of course, when the hat finally shouted its name.

It wasn't until Dumbledore stood up, making the announcement that they would be having a transfer student from Drumstrang attending Hogwarts as a third year, and to proudly welcome him to the finest establishment in magic. Tom had briefly stood, nodding at all the questioning stares before he settled himself back down on his bench. It had gone smoothly from there, and the two were thick as thieves within a matter of hours- Tom had even moved into their dormitory room in the dungeons.

He'd always had a temper, and it was getting easier to tell what subjects caused that. His grandparents back in Bulgaria, and their insolence about muggles and muggleborns and his girlfriend, Ginny Weasley, were the top two on the list.

Tom's parents had died when he was young, and the trip from Hogwarts to Bulgaria was so long, that Lucious and Narcissa Malfoy had invited Tom to stay with them during the summer holidays. Those long months had only fortified their bond.

Still, the way he had flared up at the mention of his girlfriend today had Draco Malfoy slightly worried. He didn't particularly like the Weaslette, but she was certainly growing on him after four years of she and Tom's constant companionship. However, a bit of dislike for someone didn't keep him from wondering about their well being. Not that Tom would ever do anything to hurt anyone, at least not those he seemed to love the most. Draco watched his friend's shoulders relax as they swept down the corridor, scowling at first and second years that got in their way.

Just as Draco had said, Ginny was sitting with Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood, and Neville Longbottom. If Harry hadn't been there, Tom might not have lost his temper. That being said, he certainly maintained his calm in front of the bespectacled boy.

"Potter, Longbottom, Miss Lovegood," he said, winking at the blonde haired girl that was currently talking excitedly about Dimmpledurks that were rumored to be lurking in the castle at this time of year. "Have a good holiday?" There were several murmurs about the cabin, though Neville had squished himself against the wall, looking terrified of the Slytherin boy. "Hello, love," he added, giving the redheaded vixen a smile. "We're just about to head down to our compartment, if you would like to join us."

She stood up, kissing Luna on the cheek and gripping Harry's hand. "I'll see you all at the feast shortly," Ginny whispered, grabbing the cat carrier that Nugget was snoozing in. Something about the way Tom was watching her had Draco glad that she wasn't going to be alone with him in the dimly lit corridor. He slid the glass door shut, just in time to block out Tom's scathing remark.

"Getting a little cozy with Potter there, are you, Gin?"

"We're just friends, Tom," Ginny hissed, eyes directed at the ground. Malfoy walked quietly behind them.

"Did you see him over holiday, then? Since he's such a good friend." Ginny visibly gulped, her grip tightening on the handle of Nugget's cage.

"Yes." Her voice sounded strange, slightly higher than normal, and her pale skin had lost even more of its color. "Mother invited him to stay so he wasn't alone at the castle…and he is Ron and my friend, Tom." He ground his teeth together as they stopped outside of the compartment.

Draco glanced sideways at them as he slid the compartment door open, letting Tom and Ginny enter first. Tom's whole demeanor changed, the anger melting off of him as he walked into the compartment, his fingers laced through Ginny's.

"Ginny!" Pansy squealed, moving to sit next to her friend, butting Tom out of the way. "How was your holiday!? I still wish you would have let me take you shopping! My mother took me to the most fabulous boutiques in Paris. Muggles know a thing or two about fashion, you know."

Draco sat into the seat next to the window, pulling out this month's _Witch Broomstick_ and idly flicking through it as the train picked up speed and hurdled along the English countryside, carrying them further and further away from London. Pansy and Ginny's babble carried on for the entirety of the trip. He still wasn't quite used to the fact that the two became such close friends. Pansy had almost taken it upon herself to help Ginny out in the social world. The two went shopping, or at least, Pansy went shopping and Ginny tagged along to ooh and ahh over the expensive material her parent's menial funds could never afford. They went clubbing, had hosted the very first inter-house dance just last year (and were probably planning another), worked on homework in the library together, and even sat next to each other at meals when Ginny left the Gryffindor table to sit with her boyfriend. No, the pair was not something Draco Malfoy had ever expected to see.

Next to him, Blaise was leaning across the isle with his elbows resting on his knees, in a deep conversation with Tom. They were going on about Quidditch, most likely. Though neither of them played for the school, they were both avid supporters, and were currently arguing over who would be going to the World Cup. Chudley Cannons or the Horntails.

As the compartment started to get darker, Tom suddenly stood up, lacing his fingers through Ginny's and tugging her up with him. "Come on, don't you think you should start on your rounds? We'll be back to the castle soon." Draco watched as she said goodbye to Pansy and Blaise, blatantly ignoring him, and strode out of the compartment, their fingers laced together.

Pansy settled back in her seat, reclining against Blaise, and nestling her head in her arms. "Shouldn't you be doing your rounds too, Draco?" She asked, giving him the slightest of smirks. She ticked her foot in time to some unheard music, the bedazzled silver flats on her feet flashing in the warm glow of the compartment's light. The blonde turned to look at her, hand pausing its constant flick of the magazine he had now read cover to cover multiple times on the trip. "I'll be doing so after the train stops. Make sure all the first years got to the boats, and no one is trying to sneak back to London."

It was roughly half an hour before Tom walked back into the compartment, alone, and Draco quirked a perfectly shaped eyebrow at his friend.

"You let her out of your sight for more than five minutes?" He joked, tossing the magazine up onto the luggage rack where it would lay forgotten. Tom laughed, pleasantly.

"She wanted to sit with her Gryffindor friends before they got back to the castle. Probably was sick of having her ear talked off by Miss Parkinson over here." Pansy scowled up at Tom as he sank into the bench seat opposite her. "I figured I'd catch up with her after the feast."

"I just can't believe you let your sister see someone like that," Harry muttered, looking sideways at Ron who was currently distracted by Hermione Granger's hair. He was threading his fingers through its tangled half-curls that never failed to break out of her taming spell.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Harry," Hermione said, not looking up from her textbook. She was still using her time turner from third year to get to all of her classes, though she had cut down a few- dropping that "silly "Divination class and deciding she had learned plenty about muggles from her muggle parents. "He's perfectly charming, and I've never seen him do anything to harm Ginny. You just don't like him because he is friends with Malfoy."

"But really, mate, Tom's not a bad bloke," Ron said, still staring at Hermione's hair, "quiet, sure, but don't forget Malfoy's been nothing but civil to us since he picked Ginny up."

Harry ground his teeth together, a low growl erupting from his throat. He threw his last Cauldron cake on the empty seat next to him. Ron finally looked up, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

"Are you jealous, Harry?" Hermione finally asked, glancing up from her book, a slender eyebrow raised.

"No!" Harry said, maybe too quickly, "I just don't want my best mate's daughter to be treated wrong."

"Well as far as Ron and her brothers are concerned," Hermione said, "Tom is the perfect gentlemen. You two are even friends, I thought, Harry." Before the boy could respond, the cabin door slid open, and he turned around expectantly, only to find Neville and Luna breeze in.

"We couldn't find the trolley," Luna said as she sat down next to Harry, closest to the window. "I suppose we're getting close to the castle anyway, though, I can feel the train slow down. But still, I wouldn't mind a little stash to take up the room later tonight. The girls all want to have a back-to-school party. I do hope they didn't bring Every Flavor Beans… the Dinklyhumps really like those… and they're nearly impossible to get rid of once they're in your bed sheets." She reached up to play with one of her radish earrings. Over the summer she had jinxed them so that they changed from silver to gold to bronze.

"We did see Ginny and Tom, though," Neville said. "It looked like they were trying to find an empty compartment before the train stopped."

"Neville! I'm her brother! Please, spare me the details of whatever snog you walked in on."

"I don't know if they were snogging," Neville said. "Tom didn't look very pleased. I didn't stick around long, though, the guy scares the living daylights out of me."

"See!" Harry said, looking pointedly at Ron. "He's forcing her to kiss him, Ron!"

Ron looked at his friend with a pained expression, running a hand through his hair.

"Harry, I really don't think Gin would stand for some guy pushing her around," he said, "that just isn't her personality type, and you know that. Maybe something else set him off, and maybe he wasn't even mad at all, you heard Neville, the guy scares him." He sighed, not quite able to meet his friend's bottle green eyes. "I know you like her, Harry, but she has moved on, and maybe you should too." Harry blinked, staring at his friend, feeling the unfairness of the situation seep through his bones.

Hermione was one to talk. She had her soul mate. He was wrapped around her every chance he could get and he never left her side. Harry, on the other hand, had chased after Cho Change, Alice Spinner, a Ravenclaw, and was just now realizing he had missed his chance on Ginny Weasley. Did she have to be so harsh? He turned to look out the window, his green eyes chasing the dark countryside, stomach feeling sick.

Really, was it his fault that he saw green every time Tom wrapped his arms around Ginevra Weasley in a passionate embrace? Or when they held hands in the hallway? The girl was attractive, a lot of young Hogwarts bachelors had their eye on her, and he knew he wasn't the only one who thought Tom Quandary was a slimy git. He agreed with Molly Weasley, there was just something about him that didn't sit well on his mind. No matter how polite, how charming, how charismatic he could be, there was something…

Something off.


	2. Chapter 2

"We'll save you a seat at the feast, mate!" Tom called back to Draco as he slung both arms around Blaise and Pansy's shoulders, heading off toward the carriages that marched them up to the great castle. The blonde boy sighed, shoving a hand into the pockets of his grey wool slacks, the robes he had yet to change into were slung over his shoulder. He looked up at the castle for a moment before he climbed back on the Hogwarts Express, starting at the caboose and systematically checking and shutting the compartment doors.

Train checks… They were the worst part of being a Prefect: having to discard garbage and usually be bored out of your mind because nothing of importance happened. First years were too excited to forget to get off of the train, and friends didn't let friends sleep through the feast. But when the Head Boy hates you and your family, you get stuck with the rounds no one else wants. He figured he might as well get used to it this year, what with King Weasel being in charge around here.

At the front of the train, just about to exit and tell the conductor that he was set to leave tomorrow morning, he stopped. From the compartment he had just shut, he swore he heard something. While he waited, he swung his robes on, which he had been carrying over his shoulder; he buttoned his cuff links, and tightened his silver and green tie, listening and buying time.

There!

He heard it again. Turning to the left, to a broom cabinet near the first compartment, he could hear _something_. With narrowed eyes, Draco Malfoy reached out, and pulled open the door.

"Merlin!"

"Oh for shite's sakes, Draco, I'm so sorry."

It had all happened so fast. As he pulled the door open, a harried looking Ginny Weasley tumbled out of it, tangled in brooms and looking like she was struggling against invisible bonds, she toppled Draco Malfoy over, taking him to the floor. At first, he thought her face was discolored from embarrassment, but it wasn't looking quite right. With a groan, he closed his eyes, trying to regain feeling where her knee had come in contact with a rather sensitive place. Pulling breath in through his teeth, his grey eyes opened and locked with her dark brown ones.

She had been crying.

"Up you go," he said, voice hoarse, and rolled her off of him, so he could stand and in turn help her up. He closed his hand around her small one, tugging her to her feet.

"Thank you," she whispered, looking down, her hair falling on either side of her face. "If you'll excuse me, I have some… touching up to do."

"Hold on," he reached out, grabbed her shoulder, noticing her visible flinch as he did so. "Look at me, Weasley." When she still didn't turn, he walked around so he was facing her. "Ginny," he said, softer this time. "Look at me." Nervously, she glanced up, and he shook his head. "No, not just with your eyes, come on, all the way." Gently, feeling inclined to do so with the state the young woman was in, he lifted her chin with his index finger. Stiffly, she looked at him, and he could see the dark purple bruise swelling around her left eye and moving down her cheek.

His impassive face gave nothing away as he watched her. It seemed like an eternity that they stood there, his mind racing.

But it didn't make any sense to him. He knew her boyfriend, Tom, got angry, but he also knew Tom would never touch a woman out of anger like this. Would he? He had never known Tom to get so angry that he would _hit_ Ginny. Just the other day he was saying how much he loved and needed her in his life. Draco had wanted to tune out and stop listening; the idea of marriage at such a young age had him nervous. They were seventh years, barely 18, was it really a time to start thinking about putting a ring on the girl's left hand? After all, marriage and being in love was about putting the other person first, and Draco Malfoy wasn't one hundered percent sure he could do that just yet.

"Well if you've had enough of staring," Ginny snapped, in an unusual display of anger, she whipped her head out of his hands.

"Wait!" He reached out, gently clasping her hand in his. "Who?" He watched her eyes flash: anger, nervousness, fear, hostility again. He wondered if she thought he was hoping she would deny that it was his friend and if that would influence her response.

"Is that any of your business, Malfoy?" she retorted. "For all you know I tripped and fell, why would you assume _someone _did this to me? Do you think of me as weak?" She was in his face, now, feeling much more of her spitfire self than was normal. In fact, their noses were very close to touching. "I tripped when I was finishing my rounds."

"Into a broom closet?" Draco interrupted, still refusing to let go of her hand. It was warm in his, and it was the only thing that kept this incident a reality in his mind. He watched her face flush, could feel her hot breath on his skin, saw the determination in her eyes waver slightly.

"I'm clumsy when I'm not on a broom," she said, her glare wavering only the slightest. "Now if you'd please. I want to go touch up so I don't feel and look like a balloon for the feast." Tugging her hand out of his, she brushed by him, stalking toward the small women's lavatory at the opposite end of the corridor. Draco blinked, turning to watch her go, a sneer starting to disfigure his features. Shaking out the dust and straightening his robes, he muttered to himself and slammed off of the train.

In the loo, Ginny Weasley stared at her face, reaching tentatively to touch the bruises that had formed, and winced. What would he say? Either of them. All of them. For once, Tom's reaction to her appearance wasn't the only thing on her mind. Now, it was Draco's and Harry's and Ron's. Draco may fall for the clumsy act… But she lived with Ron, Harry, and the other Gryffindors. They wouldn't fall for it for long. She bit her lip, running her hand through her long hair, feeling her stomach churn in nervousness.

Maybe she shouldn't have lost her temper… It had been awhile since she had with any of Tom's close friends, and she was worried that that may set Draco off. But she just _couldn't_ let them know. This was something she could handle on her own, she was a grown woman for Merlin's sakes

Gripping her wand, she leaned her hips against the counter, directing the tip of her wand at her own face, closing her eyes as she preformed various first aid and concealment charms she had learned from her mother and Madam Pomfrey from years of practice. A tingling sensation spread from point of contact at her eyes down her face and cheek, smoothing out the unsightly bump and getting rid of the purple splotch. Her face would be slightly puffy for a few days, but this would work better than muggle make up, and then she wouldn't have to tell anyone. Shame that Draco had found out though.

Taking a step back from the mirror, her back flat against the door of the small room, she straightened her robes and her tie, she nodded at her reflection in the mirror, drawing courage from the fierce look that still shimmered in her eyes from her fight with the Slytherin.

The cool night air had her shrinking further into her long black robes, and wish that she could have gotten off of the train with her friends and caught a carriage ride with them. But that would have been more time with Harry "alone" and more of a reason for Tom to be angry. Grimacing, she stepped off of the platform when she heard her name.

"Weasley! Are you coming or what? I saved the last carriage for you."

And there, leaning against the carriage door, his father's snake cane hanging loosely from his hand, was Draco Malfoy. She wasn't sure if she should be angry or glad. Gritting her teeth, she slowly walked toward him.

"You clean up well. Where'd you learn those charms from?" He asked, pulling the door open for her to step up first.

"Sod off, Malfoy," she snarled, climbing inside and scooting to the far, far end of the dark interior, pressing her side against the wall so she could stare out of the window. She pointedly ignored the blonde as he shut the door behind him, and the carriage lurched forward. Momentarily unbalanced by the sudden movement, she threw an arm out, instead of it coming in contact with the soft leather of the seat across from her, she instead felt his knee.

"Can't keep your hands off of me, can you, Weasley?" He asked, his usual smirk pulling up on his lips. "What, oh what, would Tom think?" Ginny felt the color drain from her face, and her eyes widened slightly.

"He won't think anything if he doesn't know," she snapped, straightening back up, sounding almost pleading around her angry words.

He raised a pale eyebrow. "I was _joking_, Ginny." When she didn't relax, he leaned forward again. "Who did that to your face?" Reaching up, he gently skimmed his fingers along her skin. Flinching away from his touch, Ginny averted her gaze.

"I told you, I tripped while I was doing rounds…"

"And locked yourself in the broom closet?"

"Please," she said quietly, looking down at her hands that sat, still, in her lap, "please, I just tripped. My robes are a bit long still… I was supposed to grow into them, and we couldn't afford to get them hemmed…" It was a lie, her school robes, brand new thanks to Tom, were the perfect length, and she hadn't tripped at all. Still, he normally couldn't resist a jab at her family's economic circumstances.

"Then why were you in a binding spell?"

The question as gentle, though probing, and his voice was barely heard above the crunch of gravel and leaves under the wheels of the carriage. She let herself sit still and sway to the rhythm of it.

"I don't know what you are talking about," she said finally. Across from her, he sighed, running a hand through his blond hair.

"Look, if your trying to protect some prick from Tom, you aren't going to accomplish anything. I'm going to tell him, you know, and he'll just assume it was someone like Potter, and beat the shite out of him." Again she paled, though refused to look at him, and he forged ahead. "Please, just tell me who did it so the wrong person doesn't get hurt."

"I tripped," she said, again. "I was doing rounds, opened the broom closet to check for snogging couples, and tripped on my robes that are too long for me, because they are hand-me-downs." She swallowed, focusing on her hands in her lap again. "Can you please leave me alone, now? Tom isn't going to believe you, over me, anyway."

"Tom's my best mate. If I'm concerned for his girlfriend's well-being, I think he is going to listen to me." She thought she heard frustration in his tone, but still wouldn't meet his gaze.

At that moment, the carriage halted, and Ginny sat perfectly still until Draco had climbed out and held the door open for her.

"Well would you look at that," he said, as she stepped to the ground, "your robes aren't long at all. I thought I remembered Tom saying he bought you new ones…" She swirled away from him an in attempt to hide the furious flush that had crept up her cheeks, but his hand clasped her shoulder, again, preventing her from getting too far. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Malfoy crest signet ring on his ring finger, and scowled.

"Let go of me!"

"Tell me who hit you, first, Ginevra," he said, voice hushed. "This whole thing will be a lot smoother if you do… They can't get away with this, you know. You can't want them too."

"I can take care of it on my own," she said through gritted teeth.

"Tom wouldn't want you to have to."

"I don't care what Tom thinks!" Her voice was shrill and she finally turned to look at him, feeling wild. "I want you both to stay out of my business! I told you I tripped, why can't you just leave it at that?! Why did you have to go sticking your ferret nose into it?" She poked his chest, hard, feeling tears start to form in her eyes and crest against her lashes. He grabbed her wrist, about to open his mouth to speak, when someone else broke into their fray.

"Mr. Malfoy! Miss Weasley!" Draco dropped her hand, as if burned, and turned to look at the Gryffindor head of house, Minerva Mcgonagall. "What are you two doing out here? The feast is about to start. Dumbledore had me come look only after Mr. Weasley reported that the final check of the train had not been reported to him." Her stern gaze traveled from either of them. "Well? What have you to say for yourselves?"

"I'm sorry, Professor," Ginny said, turning to look up at her, "I tripped during my round of the train, right before the final check, and locked myself in the broom closet. Draco found me and helped patch my face a bit. I think I should probably go to the hospital wing after the feast though," she said, avoiding the blonde's gaze.

"Well?" She asked, turning to Draco. He nodded, stiffly. "Is that what the argument was about?" His ears colored a slight pink, Ginny noticed.

"I just didn't think she was so clumsy, with the way she could fly, Professor. I was simply looking out for her well being. If someone…" The boy faltered, looking at his black shoes and shrugged. Mcgonagall softened slightly.

"Miss Weasley, why don't you run along to the Hospital Wing before the feast? I'm sure Madam Pomfrey can fix you up before the food is served… Mister Malfoy, you can escort her."

"This conversation isn't over, Weasley," Draco growled out of the side of his mouth, and Ginny laughed, smiling politely at him in front of their professor.

"That's what you think, Malfoy."

Madam Pomfrey had fussed, of course, but not nearly as much as Draco would have liked her to. He stood awkwardly at the door to the hospital wing, staring down the long rows of white beds while the medi-witch had the redhead drink a potion to help with the swelling, tutting about clumsiness and being more careful next time. She had only cast a critical eye over Ginny's robes for a moment and didn't press any further. It was infuriating. Was no one hoping to get to the bottom of this assault? Well… He would just have to have Tom take care of it with him later.

"Thank you for bringing her up here, Mr. Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin for your chivalry. You two enjoy the feast now."

And now he was sitting in the great hall, brooding while the sorting hat sang about unity and chivalry and standing together during these tough times.

"Where were you?" Tom whispered, leaning to the left while their headmaster stood, his arms outstretched in welcome. His voice, whispery with age, still managed to carry throughout the great hall with a magic spell, and he beamed at all of them. He waited long enough to hear the generalities of welcome back, and that he hoped they'd had a lovely vacation before he leaned in to reply in turn.

"Got caught up with your girlfriend on the train." At his friend's look he chuckled. "Not like that, that family isn't my thing… No she was in a bit of an accident." Tom rose his eyebrows, and Draco continued to speak lowly, as to not be heard by other students and not be called out by the old professor. As the headmaster called for the school song to be sung- to their favorite tune- they all stood, and Draco found the perfect opportunity to lean in and finish their conversation. "I found her locked in a broom closet, Tom. It looked like she'd been hit."

The calculated response of his friend wasn't quite what he'd expected.

"What, did she trip?"

There was a pause in the conversation as the Slytherin table started the song, following along with the bright green ribbon that flashed and danced over the staff table's heads. Both Tom and Draco stopped their conversation to half-heartedly join the song. He looked at his friend, raising an eyebrow, as the ribbon swiftly changed from emerald to blue. "Are you serious?" He asked, leaning against the table, slightly confused. "That's what she said."

"Then why don't you believe her?" Tom asked, tilting his head to the side as Ravenclaw's table began the chant.

"Because," Draco said, exasperated, "there is no way she tripped over her robes like she said, they're the perfect length, and she was _locked_ in there. It was like she was fighting a binding spell. Don't you want to jinx the shite out of the guy that hit her? What if it was Potter?"

His friend turned to him, his whole torso twisting to face the blonde. "Why do you care so much?" He asked.

Well. That had him stumped. Why_ did_ he care? Running a hand through his hair, he blew a breath out through his nose.

"Because. You care about her, obviously," Draco started slowly. "And I care about you. I'm just trying to look out for you, mate." Tom clapped him on the back, smiling at his friend as their headmaster stood up.

"Thanks, really, we'll have to look into it."

"What were you doing with Malfoy, earlier, walking in late, Gin?" Harry asked as he reached across the table to scoop kidney pie onto his plate. It was already teeming with other dishes that he was sure the table was going to break from the weight. He watched as Ginny barely picked at her food, her eyes shooting furtive glances at the Slytherin table from where she sat next to him. "Gin?" He asked, again, leaning against her slightly.

Her body shifted away from his, and she shot him an apologetic smile, taking a bite of her shepherd's pie.

"Sorry, Harry, I'm just a little tired. It has been a long day." He nodded in understanding, watching as she fidgeted with her fork and spoon. He chewed slowly, giving her time to respond to his question, but she had fallen silent again.

"Gin?"  
"Hm?" She asked, gaze still on the Slytherin table.

"Gin, you never answered my question."

"What? Oh, about Draco?"

"Yeah," Harry said quietly, watching as she looked down at her plate.

"It was nothing, Harry. He asked me to help him with the final round of the train. They break it down so it didn't take quite so long."

"But you two were gone _forever_." Now Hermione and Ron had looked up, interested in what Harry was asking, as well. Ginny looked at all three of them, head tilted to the side.

"It's a long train, Harry."

"Normally Draco gets the final report back to me well before the feast starts," Ron said, thoughtfully, "there wasn't anything wrong that he'd written down. Did he purposefully leave something out?"

"No." Pink heat was moving up Ginny's neck, Harry noticed.

"Gin… what's wrong?"

"Oh, Merlin," Ginny said, leaning down to cover her face with her hands. "Why will no one leave me alone?! While I was doing rounds with Draco I checked the broom closet for snogging couples who missed the stop and tripped over my robes- Mum couldn't afford new ones for me this year- and I fell into the broom closet!" Her exasperated retort was met with several snickers from her brother and friends. "Alright? Draco found me, and I had a bruise from where one of the brooms practically _attacked_ me. Can we drop this now?"

Harry held up his hands, laughing. "Geez, Gin, sorry. I was just making sure that you were okay."

Ginny sniffed, and pushing her plate back she stood. "Well, I'm going to go eat dinner with people that aren't going to interrogate me. I'll see you all in the common room."

The trio watched her go, Ron still snorting into his goblet of pumpkin juice. Harry looked particularly miffed.

"She was acting a bit odd, don't you think?"

"She was embarrassed, Harry, for goodness sakes!" Hermione said, though a slightly worried expression had finally reached her eyes as she swiveled around in her seat to watch Ginny Weasley stalk over to the Slytherin table and sink into a seat between a surprised Tom and a joyful Pansy. "I suppose she didn't want her Quidditch captain to think she'd lost her touch on a broomstick just because she trips over her own feet sometimes."

"Her robes didn't look long to me," Harry said, thoughtfully.

"No, why would they be?" Ron asked, shoving a chicken wing into his mouth, followed by a spoonful of mashed potatoes. "Tom bought her new robes over Christmas Break and they fit her perfectly. Why? Did she say they were long?"

"I thought I heard her say that," Harry said, removing his glasses to rub his eyes in confusion. "I guess I could have heard wrong, though."

"Can't believe she tripped," Ron said, still chortling. "I wish Fred and George had been there to see that, they would have died."

"Ron!" Hermione scolded quietly.

"What? Its true, isn't it Harry?" Ron asked, looking toward his best mate for some help. Harry nodded, feebly, looking bemused as he watched Tom throw his arm around Ginny's shoulders leaning in to kiss the skin next to her left eye. Now, he didn't have the best vision, but from here, it looked like Ginny Weasley had winced.


	3. Chapter 3

"I should be asking you the same question, Quandary," Harry gasped as his body was slammed into the old, stone wall of the castle, Tom's thick forearm held to his throat. He could swear dust rained down around them. Though his vision had been fading in and out throughout the affair, he could still see Tom's eyes, angry and pulsing with hate. "I didn't hit her," he repeated again. "Did you?" Harry's voice was raspy and weak, but the threat was still there, and painfully so.

"AHH!" Tom, who was gripping the front of Harry's school robes with the hand that was not thrown across his throat, yanked Harry back from the wall and slammed him into it again. He felt a sharp pain at the back of his head, and stars suddenly burst into his vision. "Don't you _dare_ accuse me of hitting my girlfriend, Potter, or you'll be sorry. You're the one that is angry with her for picking me over you." He sneered down at Harry's face, being several inches taller than the Chosen One. "You're the one with a motive."

Harry drew another ragged breath in, wishing desperately that he hadn't dropped his wand during the surprise attack. His mind was being sluggish with coming up with answers to the questions and statements being rocketed at him.

He had been minding his own business, walking out of the loo to head back to his next class now that his break was over. That's when he had been attacked from behind. And not attacked by magic. It had been brute force, anger and rage, which had taken him to the ground. His glasses had been knocked off, probably broken, and had then skidded across the floor. Still unable to name his assailant the two bodies had rolled about on the marble floor, grappling for the upper hand and their wands. Only once his had been ripped from his hands and flung across the hallway, where it hit the wall with a small clang, was he able to get a clear picture of his captors face. Then, he had been roughly dragged up by the tie and pressed against the wall where the questioning began. The repeated questioning. The same question. Over and over again. Had he been the one to hit Ginny Weasley and lock her in the broom closet?

"I'll ask you one more time, Potter, did you attack my girlfriend?"

"NO!" Harry roared, blood and spittle flinging off of his lips. "No, I didn't! I never would." With a sudden burst of energy, Harry launched himself off of the wall, pushing into Tom with both of his hands. The boys met with another clash, gripping each other in a headlock. Blood flowed freely from Harry's mouth and a cut under his eye, though now it was starting to mix with Tom's as they wrestled in the hallway.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry registered that the thundering sound of students letting out of class and filling the other corridors and stairwells was nearing them. Tom had to have, too, but that seemed to be the least of their worries, as they attempted to land blows on one another with fisted hands.

"Boys! Boys! _Boys!"_

Professor Mcgonagall, wearing bottle green robes, came sweeping down the hallway, her already severe face pulled into an even more severe grim look. The only things that gave away her outrage were her eyes. The crowd of students that had gathered (including Colin Creevy, who was busy taking pictures of the bleeding boys) quickly parted for the professor, falling silent at once to hear everything she was getting ready to screech.

"How _dare_ you act this way!" Quickly drawing her wand she waved it at the two of them, a barrier immediately drawing up between them, both boys restrained by some invisible force that kept them from moving again. "Acting like _barbarians_," she said, aghast as she looked Harry Potter and then Tom Quandary over. "Fighting like _muggles_, I am in _shock_!" Pursing her lips she looked toward each man. "Fifty points from Gryffindor," she said, eyes flashing, "and from Slytherin, too!" Drawing herself up to full height, she took a deep breath. "To Dumbledore's office, come on, the both of you, _march_!" She turned around, looking at the sea of students headed toward their next classes. "And what are you all doing standing around? Off you go!"

Harry cringed as she turned her blazing eyes on him. "I expected more from you, at least, Potter." Taking both him and Tom by their upper arms she began to half drag, half propel them toward Professor Dumbledore's office, muttering under her breath the whole way.

Honestly. _Boys_. Ginny was _furious_. And her fury was one to rival Mcgonagall's. It was famous, the Weasley Women's temper, it was. And her boyfriend, and one of her best friends, had just messed with it. Sitting in a large, leather chair with her arms crossed, Ginny glared at any Slytherin that so much as looked at her the wrong way. She had just bullied a first year into letting her into the common room, and the stone wall that served as the entrance had been so impressed with her Slytherin-like attitude, it opened for her without a password. The whole thing had disgusted her even more.

What in the _world_ had they been fighting about?! Smoke was about to come out of her ears. The sooner she got all of this off of her chest, the better. She had heard rumors, whispers in the hallway. That had been what tipped her off. Nothing stayed quiet in this school, and news about a fight between Hogwarts' two golden boys had spread like a wildfire. Everyone had their suspicions and their guesses as to why it had happened, and the quick silences when Ginny entered a room had clued her in all too quickly.

"Merlin, please let that guess be wrong," she whispered, shooting Blaise Zabini a dark look when it appeared he was teasing her for talking to herself. Even Pansy Parkinson, her friend, had known to stay away when she saw Ginny in her common room.

She had never been this mad at Tom. She knew the consequences of actions like these. But those sorts of thoughts, those fears, always melted when she got angry. He had kept her from being angry for a long, long time. It was one of those states that he found her hard to control when she was in it. But this had just been the straw to break the camel's back, as her Auntie Muriel would say. As the wall melted away again, Ginny's head whipped in that direction, and when she stood, so did everyone else's.

"Are you wanting to see the circus or something?" Ginny sneered. "If you keep staring I'm going to start charging admission price." When she looked back at Tom, he was smiling at her. Probably proud at her for acting so much like a Slytherin, or just happy that she was here to nurse him back into health. _Think again_, she thought darkly as she strode toward him.

"Ginny, love," he said, his lip splitting from where Harry had hit him earlier as he smiled, "I didn't expect to see you here." And there, in front of the entire Slytherin common room, she reached up and slapped him, hard, across his already bruised cheek.

Ginny frowned, sadly unsatisfied by his silent reaction to her strike. He slowly turned his head to face her, his eyes flashing darkly. She pretended not to notice.

"How dare you," she said, low and slow. "How _dare_ you treat my friends that way. How _dare_ you listen to Draco _Malfoy_ over me! Of course he was going to tell you Harry attacked me, he _hates_ Harry, Tom!" Her eyes flashed angrily, her feelings rolling off of her in waves. "How could you do that to me?" She wondered if he got the double entendre. "How could you do that to Harry?" She tilted her head, as if expecting an answer. After a minute, she shook her head, closing her eyes, a slight smile playing across her lips. It wasn't a happy one. The Slytherin common room, which had held its breath since she slapped him, was held enraptured by the scene unfolding before them.

"I don't know why I even waste my time with you," she said. "I don't ask much of you, you know, and then you go and do the one thing I ask you not to. I ask you to be nice to the people I love that you don't get along with."

"Oh, you love him now, do you?"

Something in the pit of her stomach clenched, but she forged on, determined to have the last say and get out of here with her life. "I don't ask much of you," she began again, her voice starting to lose its strength. "I give you so much, and you can't give me anything in return." She scoffed, shaking her head. "I should have known that would come from a Slytherin. I should have listened to my family." She wasn't meeting his gaze, now, feeling its heat starting to burn her.

"Should have listened to your family tell you what a bad guy I am, Gin?" She didn't respond, just stared at him. "Do you want me to show you what a bad guy is like, Ginny, love?"

"I'm not wasting my time with you anymore, Tom. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be going." Feeling confident she moved to brush past him, shocked when he grabbed her arm.

"Not until I show you what a bad guy is like," he growled, his grip tight on her arm. The room around them cringed, looked away, looked anywhere but at the fighting couple in front of the entrance to the common room.

"Let go of me, Tom. You're hurting me." Her voice was quiet.

"What was that, I couldn't hear you," he said squeezing tighter, tugging on her until she whipped around in front of him, her body weight carrying her further than if she had obliged to move.  
"I said, let go of my arm," she said, whispering, "you're hurting me." She could feel her subdued self coming back out, feel her eyes lose their fire.

"Oh, I'm hurting you?" In the process of pulling on her, Tom let go, and she stumbled, falling to the floor, letting out a small cry. Still, those that had remained in the common room looked away, or made to quickly pack up and get out. "What do you think Potter did to me, Gin? While I was standing up for you, like a boyfriend should? Do you think he hurt me? Do you even care? No! Because you are in love with him! You just admitted it to me!" She looked up at him through her tangled red hair, face red from the effort not to cry. She had felt something in her ankle pop. She wasn't sure if it was sprained or broken.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Pansy sneak around Tom and dash out of the common room. She wished she had enough courage to yell for help. But who would hear her that cared down in these dungeons?

"You were making me out to be such a bad guy, Ginny, I'm not going to let you go until I show you just how bad of a guy I can be. Now get up."

"You were just blaming Harry for something you did! You're the one that hit me, Tom! Own up to it, or are you just going to lie your entire life?"

"I said get up!" He roared, causing Ginny to flinch.

"I can't. I hurt my ankle," she said, shrinking in on herself, feeling her mind start to panic. In her fury she hadn't thought of this happening. And if she had, she had immediately pushed it into the back of her mind. He would never hurt her in public, with people watching. But they were just bystanders. They were going to let it happen and just walk away. At her response, he snorted.

"Do I have to help you do everything?" Reaching down, he grabbed her arm, already bruising from where he had grabbed her earlier, and tugged her up. She yelped as he forced her to put weight on her hurt ankle. She yelped again as his hand came down hard on her cheek.

"That is for you yelling earlier." And then it was on the other cheek. "That was for you hitting me," he sneered. "Is there anything else you wanted to say?"

Ginny shook her head, her red hair flying out on either side.

"Good." Taking hold of her arm again he dragged her off to his dormitory room, shutting and locking the door behind him.

Below, people slowly crept back into the common room, ignoring the sounds of Ginny's sobs by turning on a muggle radio and tuning in to a wizarding station, cranking up the Weird Sisters.

"You had better have a damn good reason for this, Pansy," Draco growled as he stepped out of Professor Snape's classroom, leaving his cauldron in the hands of Crabbe and Goyle. While the two weren't completely stupid, they certainly weren't as capable in the class as he was. The Slytherin Prince was fairly sure they would be blown up if he didn't return soon.

Professor Snape had only allowed Draco to leave at all because Pansy was a student in his house and she was near tears, saying it was an emergency. She had no note from a teacher. No note from Professor Dumbledore, only the promise that she would tell him everything once class was over. "My grade is left in the hands of those two meat heads in there."

"This is more important than your potions grade," Pansy snapped, staring up at him and fidgeting with her hands. Draco stared at her, eyes slightly narrowed. He had never completely understood his friend Blaise Zabini's infatuation with the girl, but for some reason he found her absolutely irresistible. No, she wasn't unattractive. She had a slim waistline and curves in the right places, and no matter how many times the Gryffindors tried to make her look like a pug it would never work. Her nose was small, slightly upturned, sure, but she wasn't all smooshed and unattractive.

She pushed a hand through her hair, biting her lip before taking his and starting briskly down the hallway toward a deeper part of the dungeons toward the common room.

"Where are we going?" He asked, extending his pace to keep up with her clipped one. Her high heeled boots echoed as they marched down the hallway.

"The common room," she said, breathless, stopping in front of the familiar brick wall. "Listen, Draco, you need to listen carefully. Tom and Harry Potter got in a fight."

"What?" He snapped, his carefully bored expression that he used with the girl suddenly lifting.

"You aren't listening to me," she said, impatient, "I wasn't done. Tom and Harry Potter fought, and it's all over the school that they fought about Ginny Weasley getting hit. I don't know if it is even true, her face looked normal to me, but she blew up at him, Draco." He rose an eyebrow, as if to say, so?

"It isn't my job to handle their domestic relationship, Pansy."

"Draco, you are Tom's friend, so its your job to talk to him if he does something wrong. He…" she bit her lip. "He hit her for defending her friend and slapping him. And I don't like Potter any more than any other Slytherin, Draco, but he hit her. Or at least it seemed like he was going to." She stared up into Draco's steely face. "You have got to talk to him. If I got in the way I know he wouldn't have minded slapping some sense into me, and Blaise wasn't in the room."

"There were people watching?"

"They didn't care!" She looked like she was about to cry again. Draco ran a hand through his hair in disgust, shaking his head.

"Parstletongue, he said, looking at the wall, and it melted away into an elaborate arch. But instead of being met by a scene of violence he was met by loud music and people attempting to be overly happy. Turning he rose an eyebrow at Pansy, who shooed him through the door, crossing her arms over her chest and returning to her table to go about studying.

"Where's Quandary?" His words, full of authority, were met with silence, and he frowned. "Well?" He asked again, as several people looked up. "Where is he?"

"Busy, Malfoy," a sixth year muttered, his head bent low over a textbook. "I would leave him alone."

"Busy?" Draco sneered, he shook his head, actually upset that his housemates would willingly look away while a girl was hurt. He glanced behind him at Pansy Parkinson, who shrugged, and nodded toward the hallway for the boys. Grinding his teeth together, Draco swept past the study tables, causing several people to look up and watch him with mild interest.  
Unlike in the Gryffindor Tower, the dormitory rooms did not go curving spiral staircases. Instead they went even lower underground. The hallway Draco walked on sloped gently downward until he stopped before a green stained door and pushed himself through it, after whispering a quiet "alohomora" to unlock the door.

Also unlike in the Gryffindor tower the dormitory room was not circular, though it had five beds, and the walls were merely thick glass that showed the murky depths of the Hogwarts Lake. The room had a warm glow from the fire that burned in the center of the circular room, the flames dancing without smoke. Five beds were arranged in a circle with thick green and silver curtains hanging around each one. But the normal view of his room was changed dramatically by the sniffling, pink faced red-head sitting in the middle of the bed to the right of his- Tom's.

"Draco! Thought you were in potions?" Tom asked, chuckling to himself as he began to redo the green tie around his neck. He had cast his robe over the chair that sat at his desk, and was looking slightly ruffled.

"Professor Snape heard about the fight, wanted me to come and check on his golden boy," Draco said with the smallest of smiles. But his eyes could barely leave Ginny Weasley's. She had been crying, her eyes were puffy and red, and her face looked inflamed. Her school robes had been tossed on the floor, and she was sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed, her knee high stockings covering far more of her leg than her skirt.

"Good old Professor Snape, as you can see, I'm fine." Draco finally looked over at Tom, his grey eyes scanning his friend before he glanced back over at the girl, picking her cloak up off of the floor and helping her into it.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"She's fine," Tom said, evenly, leaning back against his desk with his arms crossed, watching the two carefully. "She got in the middle of the fight with Harry and I, didn't you, love? It was cute, she thought she could help me out. Potter isn't going to be pleased next time he sees her." He shook his head. "Harry clocked her when he was trying to get to me. I was so proud of her." When Ginny didn't look up at Draco, he sighed, looking at Tom.

"I heard it was just you and Potter."

"Are you suggesting that I'm lying to you, Draco?"

"Tom, we're best mates, I'm not saying you're lying."

"I didn't think so," Tom interrupted.

"But I'm not saying that it is okay to hit your girlfriend," Draco finished evenly. "Most students here think I'm just some slimy git, but hitting a woman crosses the line." Tom ground his teeth together.

"Are you suggesting that I hit Ginny? I was just fighting for her honor, Malfoy."

"I know your temper, Tom." Ginny sat silently on the bed the whole time, buttoning her robe with shaking fingers and trying to lay her wild hair flat. This could not end well. "Ginny and I have rounds. Pansy told me she saw her come in the common room earlier, I thought I'd come get her to start them. I'm sure you won't mind." Tom ground his teeth together, watching his friend and then checked his watch.

"That's fine, I have a meeting with Dumbledore, anyway." He kissed Ginny's cheek, Draco watched her flinch. As she clambered off of the bed, he reached out and held the room's door open for her before turning around to meet Tom's brown gaze. "This conversation is not over, Quandary."

"Oh, I think it is, Malfoy, I think it is."

"You must have heard the rumors wrong," Ginny said to him twenty minutes later as she leaned against a countertop on tip toe in the Room of Requirement. Draco sat behind her on a vintage chaise lounge, elbows resting on his knees, staring intently at her back. He had tossed his cloak over the back of the lounge and rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows. She had stripped down to stockings and a short, black bathrobe that the room had supplied. Her hair was tumbling down her back; she had just finished taming its fire-red curls. He had lied about the round for prefect duty, he just hadn't wanted to leave her in that room with his friend. Currently, she was rummaging through a medicine cabinet for a particular potion or cream for her multiple bruises.

"Oh?" He said simply, resting his chin on his hands. From where he sat he could just see her reflection. Where her face had been inflamed before it was now bruising, and her lip was split. She was a mess, though the lotions she was messaging into her skin were slowly starting to make the bruises melt away. He'd noticed, as she had changed (when he wasn't supposed to be looking!), the large red welts on her upper arms and torso, and he wasn't sure that magic potions and lotions were going to be able to make those disappear.

"Mmmhm," she said, quietly, focusing on the skin under her eye. "I did walk into the middle of that fight. It was stupid, really. I just… I didn't want either of them to get hurt. You know?" She looked up at him in the mirror, her gaze wavering as he met hers.

"I know you're lying. Pansy came and got me," he said, quietly, still watching her in the mirror as she turned around to stare at him, her face mostly put back together. Her body stiffened at his news, her nerves put on edge. "Which means that he was the one that attacked you on the train as well." Despite the tears starting to shine in her eyes, he forged on. "Why do you put up with that?"

"Please," Ginny said, rolling up the sleeves of the bathrobe. "Leave it alone. This isn't your business, really. I know Tom is your friend, and if you just pretend, like all the other Slytherins, that you don't know anything, he can keep on being your golden boy. I'm fine. I can take care of myself." She smiled, then, though it wasn't very convincing. "I guess I'll be wearing long sleeves until he decides to heal these, then," she muttered under her breath, probably thinking that he couldn't hear her. Closing her eyes, she held out her hand, and a soft, chunky sweater appeared in it. Turning back around so her back was to him, she shed her robe and pulled the sweater on. It fell to just above her knees, hiding any and all evidence of welts.

"I don't stand for hitting women, Ginny," Draco said, slowly. "My father may not be your favorite person in the world, but he would never hit my mother, nor would he condone anyone else hitting their wife or girlfriend. If I ever hit a girl and he found out I would lose my hands." When she snorted he shook his head. "I'm serious."

"I am too. I want you to stay out of my business. I appreciate you caring and all that, but I know what I'm doing. He gets upset and I just push him too far, sometimes." As she spoke she'd walked toward him, sinking down onto the chaise next to him. She had started to cry.  
"Ginny," he said quietly, reaching out to awkwardly pat her back. Instead she slumped against his shoulder, her face burying in his chest. "You shouldn't have to walk on eggshells."

"I know what I'm doing," she repeated, again, miserably. "There is so much to this relationship that you don't understand, Draco. I'm fairly sure I will die if I'm not with him." At that, the blonde snorted, and she shuddered. "Really, you don't understand."

"You're going to have to help me understand then, Ginny, because I don't see how any girl would die if she didn't marry the man she dated in her first few years at Hogwarts." His hand curled around her back, gently running up and down her spine. His other hand had curled up in her hair. It was an awkward angle, but an even more awkward embrace. A Weasley and a Malfoy had never really been friends. It had been weird even being in close contact with her when she and Tom started dating, though she had never been invited to his home during the summer holidays with Tom like his girlfriends had been. And now, with only a few months to go in his school career, he was comforting her. His spotless record was broken.

At his last words, she gave a choked sob, turning her head so that instead of being buried in his shoulder it was instead in the crook of his neck. He could feel her hot breath warm his skin as she attempted to even her breathing.

"You don't even know the half of it, Malfoy," she whispered.

"So help me understand," he repeated again, feeling her lips curve up in half-hearted smile at his words. "We can start when we do rounds together, just have a word with your brother, say you want to be paired with me because I'm tutoring you in potions, or some nonsense."

"I don't know how keen on that Tom would be," she responded.

"He was fine with it today, wasn't he? And besides, how would he know? He isn't a prefect."

"He checks my schedule. I have to have Ron change it if I'm with any boy that he doesn't approve of. I think Ron has an idea of what's going on, but he does the same thing with Hermione by always pairing himself with her, so he doesn't think anything of it."

"What?!" He shook his head in disbelief. "Just talk to your brother, Tom won't have anything against the two of us doing rounds together occasionally. Or is there any way we can meet?"

"Well, my potions final really is coming up," Ginny said, moving to sit up, still in Draco's arms. "And Tom doesn't tutor me in anything, we agreed to that almost immediately- we get frustrated with each other or distracted by each other." She lifted a shoulder in a feeble shrug. "I suppose I might as well actually learn something. But I'll talk to Ronald, too." Draco nodded.

"We can meet for potions in the here every Thursday night after Quidditch practice," he said, thoughtfully.

"Sounds great." Checking the watch on her hand, Ginny sighed. "I suppose I've put off being berated by Harry for long enough. He'll probably want to know what I'm doing dating such a prick." She chuckled, standing and pulling on a pair of dark jeans and boots, looping her robes over her arm. "I'll see you next Thursday, then."

Draco nodded, watching her walk out of the room of requirement before sinking back in the lounge and staring up at the ceiling.

"Damn, I need a drink."


	4. Chapter 4

"Tom!" Ginny stilled in surprise as she stopped in mid stride in the middle of the portrait hole to the Gryffindor Common Room. It had been several days since their fight, and her conversation with Draco Malfoy. Her boyfriend hadn't spoken to her since, still angry. In truth, he hadn't been done with her when Malfoy came down to the room to find them, and was still holding his grudge against her. It was normal, when anyone asked how they were, she would just tell them he was really stressed about school and that they were fine. But it was still a surprise to see him on the other side of the portrait hole with a pained, apologetic expression on his face.

Apologies weren't something she got often from her boyfriend, and Ginny relished them. She took a moment to stare at his face, memorizing it so that on a rainy day she could bring it to the front of her mind to cheer herself up.

Surreptitiously she tugged the sleeves of her navy blouse down over her arms, wondering if he could see the bruises. Last time he saw what he had done to her he had been reduced to tears. That's when she'd gotten Nugget.

"What… What are you doing here?" She asked, quietly, wondering how soundproof the entrance was. She'd just been laughing and talking loudly with Ron and Harry. In fact, Harry was staring at her now, defensively.

"I just wanted to come and apologize. Can we talk?" He asked, looking down, his voice quiet.

"Of course," she said, taking his hand and pulling him along out of the common room and away from prying ears and eyes. Who knew who had a Quick Notes Quill to scribble down some rubbish for the rumor mill to grind?

"Here, its nice and quiet down this way," she said. "I've got Prefect Duty pretty soon, I was going to bring you my schedule, but I wasn't sure if you wanted to see me, I'm sorry." She was talking at ninety miles a minute, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she really had a chance to think about what she was saying. Rummaging around in her bag, she pulled out the parchment Ron had copied her schedule on to. The bottom right hand corner had a stamp of Dumbledore's seal of approval. "I'm working with Draco most nights, though, so I didn't think you'd mind. Draco and Hermione; I told Ron that I need help with potions so he paired me with the two of them to tutor me during our rounds. That is okay, right?"

"Ginny," Tom said, setting aside her schedule without even looking at it. "Of course it is fine. I didn't come out here to yell at you. I came over here because I want to apologize." He gently took her shoulders and guided her to a bench that lined the hallway that they were in. Sitting her down, he sat next to her, taking her hand in his. "I just wanted to apologize for last week. I never… I never should have picked a fight with Harry. And I never should have let my anger get the better of me with you. I understand that you were just upset about your friend. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Tom," Ginny said quietly, giving him a crooked, watery smile and running a hand along his cheek and into his hair. "I shouldn't have hit you, I know that sets you off. I'm sorry, too." Her boyfriend smiled, looking relieved, and dug into his pocket.

"I got you this," he said, quietly, pulling out a small velvet box. As he eased it open, Ginny's hands flew to her mouth.

"I can't accept it," she whispered, staring at the beautiful necklace. A pearl rested on a chain of silver, in a nest of diamonds and rubies. It was gorgeous, and she moved forward as he removed it from the box to clasp it around her neck. It was heavy and cold against her skin. She smiled. "Thank you," she whispered. Tom smiled back and stood, taking her hand, walking with her toward the Great Hall.

"I'll walk you to your meeting place with Draco. Then I'm going to leave you two to it, he's a great potions student, I'm proud of you for taking initiative in your studies." Ginny smiled, leaning against his arm as she walked, their hands interlocked. "And I cannot wait to see you play Slytherin in a few weeks. Even if you are going to lose."

"Ha! We'll see about that, Quandary," Ginny said, grinning as she turned her head to look at him, still grinning. Here was the boy that she'd fallen so hard for when they wrote to each other her first year. Here was the witty, laughing, compassionate boy that had claimed to love her. She knew how to coax him out, sometimes it just took some time.

"Oh, I guarantee that we'll be taking home the cup this year," he said, sliding an arm around her waist protectively. "But on the off chance that we don't, I won't be betting you." As the Great Hall came into view he slowed down. "You don't happen to have my journal do you?" He asked, looking at her with a raised brow.

"Of course I do, its here with me at school, why?" Ginny asked, stopping and turning to look at him, wrapping her arms around his hips and leaning back. "I can bring it to you if you'd like."

"Just bring it with you to Hogsmeade next weekend," Tom said, leaning down to kiss her lips, lightly. "Take good care of it until then." Despite the sudden chills that ran up and down her spine, she forced a smile and nodded.

"Alright."

Behind them, someone cleared their throat.

"I hate to be ruining such a beautiful moment," came Draco Malfoy's drawling voice from behind them, "but we do have a job to do, Weasley." Ginny blushed, pulling back from Tom, who stole another kiss and the turned to face Draco, grinning.

"Take good care of her, mate," he said, patting him on the back as he walked toward the dungeons. Draco stood with the hands in the pockets of his grey woolen slacks, staring at Ginny. She looked down at her feet, her hands clasped behind her back.

"Stop looking at me like that. You're worse than him," she whispered, biting her lip. "Besides, I told you that I knew what I was doing."

"Clearly," Draco said quietly, before starting to walk ahead of her. "Coming?" He called, looking back for a moment.

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, Ginny took off after him, the short heels of her boots clacking against the marble floor. He really was just about as difficult as Tom was, just in different ways.

"Draco," she scowled, finally catching up with him. "Are you going to be this big of a pain in all of our rounds together from now on? Because if that's the case I may just switch out of this schedule and tell Ron what an absolute git you are." Draco snorted, turning down another hallway, causing her to take two steps to keep up with his long stride. "Seriously," she said, throwing her hands up in the air, "what did I do?" She stopped moving to watch him pace, having forgotten that they'd stopped in front of the room of requirement. As the door materialized he reached for her hand and she stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest. "I can walk through a door by myself, thank you very much." She watched him roll his eyes and she stalked into the room.

She stopped, momentarily taken aback by what greeted her. There was a small round table filled with food and the exact same velvet chaise lounge they'd sat on last time they had been in this room alone. A fire crackled merrily against the wall behind the table, and in the other corner was a complete potions station. Behind her, Draco shut the door.

"I paid two younger Prefects to do our rounds for us. Said you desperately needed to get your potions work done. Also gave them money for keeping their mouths shut." Ginny whirled around to stare at him. He was rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, the white cuffs folding over the black sweater. He loosened his tie, then, tossing it onto the chaise. "Sit. We don't want dinner to get cold."

"We need to be doing our rounds," she whispered.

"Actually, you need to eat and then study potions." He wasn't even looking at her as he dished Shepard's' Pie and Toad in the Hole onto his plate. Ginny didn't budge, even as he pulled out her chair for her.

"Why were you upset with me? No. Why _are_ you upset with me?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest, standing rooted to the spot. For a while they had a staring contest, neither willing to back down first. Finally, Draco sighed.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Obviously."

"I was simply disappointed that you seemed to have made up with your wife-beater of a boyfriend." Ginny bristled at that.

"Don't act like you know anything about our relationship," she snapped, pointing at him. "He came and apologized to me. I'm the one that hit him first, anyway, so I deserved it. You just don't understand the kind of relationship we're in."

"That's why we were supposed to meet today, don't you remember?" Draco asked, seemingly calm despite her outburst. "You were going to tell me why you two even started dating." Ginny reached up, playing with the new necklace she'd just received, not quite meeting Draco's gaze.

"Look, he apologized. I was just really, really overwhelmed last week. You caught me off guard. I don't want to burden you with my troubles." Taking a step backward, Draco took two forward, and soon caught her wrist gently in his hand.

"Does he always give you nice things to apologize?" He asked gently, his free hand wrapping around her waist to keep her from escaping again. "And then is he nice to you for a couple of days before you push his buttons again?" His body was warm against hers, and despite her better judgment she leaned into him slightly.

"What's it to you?" She asked.

"Because I don't like how he treats you, Ginny. Whether he was my friend or not, I wouldn't like the way he treats you." She scowled up at him. "Just tell me how you guys started dating and all this nonsense about dying if you weren't with him. If you absolutely can't stand talking to me about it by the end of the night we don't have to do this again," he said, finally. Biting her lower lip, Ginny slowly walked forward to sink down in the chair he was standing behind. Placing the napkin in her lap, she dished herself a healthy helping of squeak and bubble and Shepard's pie, glancing over at Draco as he sat down, too.

"He treats me fine." Draco snorted into his napkin, glancing up through his lashes to meet her gaze. "What?" Ginny demanded. "He does! I hit him first. If I had never hit him then it would have been fine."

"What about on the train, then?"

"I _told_ you, I tripped and fell into the broom closet while I was doing my rounds."

"Oh, right, sorry I forgot your complete lie." Ginny colored bright red as she took a bite of her meal, looking down into her lap.

"We met my first year, you know."

"He wasn't at Hogwarts that year."

"We were… pen pals." Draco rose an eyebrow.

"He never mentioned that to me before. He said he never had contact with someone from Hogwarts…" He held her gaze as she looked down, fidgeting with her fork, buying time by taking another bite. "How did that interaction begin?"

"Let me tell my story my way," Ginny said, eyes flashing as she swallowed her food. "We were pen pals. We met through you, believe it or not. He really helped me through some troubled times. He seemed so much older, so much more mature, and he really seemed to like me." She rubbed her arms. "I started to get sick my first year. Mum keeps telling me it was the stress from the Basilisk attacks, I'm sure you remember all of that, but it wasn't just that. Part of it was the way I knew Tom."

"Can we back up a minute? Through me? I didn't even know Tom until my third year."

"Oh, no, I know. It wasn't really through you; it was through your father. He gave us our way of correspondence. It was a diary, rather like a two way mirror. I'm sure he gave it to me on accident, it appeared in my cauldron after our fathers fought in Flourish and Botts that year." She waved her arm around like it was nothing, and that people talked through diaries to each other every day. She knew how crazy she sounded. Even in the wizarding world talking diaries weren't something you stumbled across very often. What was it her father always said? Don't trust something that thinks for itself if you can't see its brain.

"Anyway," she went on, "I don't remember most of my first year. It is a lot of fuzzy memories. A lot of blurs. The last thing that was really very clear to me was the night before the Halloween feast, I was complaining to Tom that Harry Potter would never notice me."

"No wonder he hates him so much," Draco said thoughtfully, smirking.

"Would you stop interrupting?"

"Carry on."

"_Anyway_. Tom talked about a lot of the things going on in the school, like he was here, you know? He was the one who told me about what really happened to Mrs. Norris."

"So you actually know then?" Draco asked, perking up. "I always did want to know who opened the Chamber of Secrets. Had to be a powerful wizard, whoever he was." At his words, Ginny paled.

"I thought you said you'd stop interrupting?"

"I said no such thing." Rolling her eyes, Ginny cleared her throat.

"Yes, well, after I found out what happened to Mrs. Norris, Fred and George tried to convince me that she had it coming, but I felt terrible. The news only got worse, too, Tom would fill me in on what I had missed… What my memory had forgotten to remember, rather. I found out that I." Ginny stopped suddenly, looking up at Draco and looking away from his quizzical gaze, quickly. "I got really sick at the end of the year. Tom told me to go somewhere, I can't remember where, but I went. I got better and he told me that he'd be coming to Hogwarts next year thanks to me." She shrugged.

"There seem to be some holes in that story."

"I told you, I don't remember much from my first year." Draco frowned at her from across the table, leaning back. "Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked defensively.

"I don't believe you. There's more to this story." Childishly, she stuck her tongue out.

"You didn't expect to get everything the first night, did you? I want to milk this new personality out of you for all its worth."

He sneered at her, snapping his fingers, their food suddenly disappeared.

"Don't get used to it."

"I'm sure that won't be difficult," she muttered, leaning back in her seat as he stood up and walked toward the cauldron.

"Are we going to be studying for potions then?"

Tom had been curious, of course, as to why they had gotten back so late that night. As it had turned out, Ginny had been brilliant in potions and hadn't needed help at all. The two had wound up laughing and talking throughout the night when they weren't getting into fights with the gelatinous, and harmless, substances that they had brewed. That seemed like years ago, now, though. They hadn't so much as looked at each other when they passed in the hallways, and Ginny kept it polite and short with him when she sat by Tom at dinner. He hadn't seen her yesterday, though, in fact she seemed to be avoiding even Tom. It was all probably because of the game, of course. She always has been competitive, the little minx.

Draco ran a hand through his hair, growling at his reflection in the mirror that hung on the inside of his locker. Why was she in his head right now? He had a game he had to focus on winning! And with her flitting around on her broomstick, it was going to be awfully hard focusing on getting to the snitch before Potter. Behind him, the Slytherin changing rooms were slowly filling with players dressing in their robes. He had already changed into his emerald green robes, and was now shaking out his legs, trying to keep his feet from fallings asleep in his tightly bound leather boots.

"You're going to win, Malfoy," Tom, who was lounging on the bench against the rows of lockers behind him, drawled, looking quite relaxed in his dark muggle denim slacks and a green jumper with the Slytherin House Crest embroidered on the breast pocket. It was the first time he had supported his house over his girlfriend since they had started dating. "In fact, I know you are going to win." Draco looked at his friend with a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"I appreciate the confidence, mate, but you don't know anything, Ginny is a good chaser, she had 80 points alone the last game. And Potter is an excellent seeker- he has only failed to catch the snitch once, and its because he fell off of his broom." Tom rolled his eyes, staring pointedly at his friend.

"I told you, I _know_ you are going to win." Draco turned around, while buckling the brace on his forearm, to stare at Tom.

"You know?"

"Ginny wouldn't disappoint me, Draco," Tom said, standing and moving toward the entrance of the locker rooms. "I had a little talk with her about how much this game meant to me."

"Tom." His voice was low and full of warning.

"What?"

"You know how I feel about that."

"About what?" Draco stopped what he was doing, looking meaningfully at his friend.

"I'm willing to overlook what I walked in on last week as a one time occurrence that won't happen again. But you telling her to throw the game for you is wrong. Plus, it takes the fun away from the hunt."

"Draco, Draco, Draco," Tom said, shaking his head with a mysterious grin, "I said no such thing to her. We just placed a bet that she can't afford to win."

"You know how I feel about it, Tom. Don't make me question."

"Don't make you question what, Draco? You may be the Slytherin Prince but you know that I can make you nothing just as quickly as you helped me become Slytherin's golden boy." His eyes flashed darkly. "What went on between Ginny and me is none of your concern. I won't forget how much you hated it when we started going steady, and I won't have your bias toward her putting delusional images in your head. I just handed you the best Christmas Present in the world- we are going to _win_ this match. Don't go forgetting where your loyalties lie, mate." Nodding to his friend, he ducked out of the locker rooms to return to his seat in the Slytherin box where, as he had promised Draco earlier, he would holding a flag that said "MALFOY FOR MINISTER" in large silver letters in the stands. Rolling his eyes, Draco shouldered his broom and moved to stand with his team.

"Alright, listen up," he said, throwing his broom over both shoulders and both arms over it, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Gryffindor is going to be putting up a pretty big fight today. We all know Potter has always had a bone to pick with me, and now he feels like he has something to prove to the entire house. We're going to dominate them." His sharp eyes scanned the group of smirking faces. "That does not mean," he said, voice icy, "that we won't be playing a clean game. Mcgonagall is reffing and we all know how big of a stickler she is to the rules. Bottom line, if you play dirty, don't get caught." He waited for the team to nod. "We'll win this one, the Quidditch Cup is ours this year."

He led them out with cheers, each of them slapping the emerald and silver "FLY LIKE CHAMPIONS TODAY" plaque that hung over the exit to the locker rooms.

"I need a quick word with Hooch," he said as everyone gathered in the waiting room, shaking out their nerves and firing each other up by sneering about their opposing team. "I'll be back in a minute." No one looked twice as he slipped out of the holding room and toward the gentle slope that separated the two teams. He felt oddly bare without his broom slung over his shoulder. He was still riding his Nimbus 2001, which he knew wasn't something great compared to Potter's Firebolt. He scowled slightly, running a hand through his hair. But he was a better flier, and that was what really mattered.

"Potter!"

He stopped at the crest of the hill, his arms crossed over his broad chest, staring down at the group of scarlet robes that were walking past him. They were all grouped together, blurting out last minute strategies to win today (not that they had a chance) and stretching before piling into their waiting room to be announced. The man of the hour, Harry Potter, turned around.

"What is it, Malfoy?" Harry demanded, his eyes flashing behind his ridiculous goggles. If Draco wasn't about to be polite to him he would definitely have given more though to the fact that they made him look rather like an insect.

"I just wanted a word with one of your players," Draco said, "is that a problem?"

"Well go ahead and say it then."

"Privately, if you'd please, Potter."

"What you say to one of my teammates should be appropriate enough to say to my entire team, Malfoy." The whole team was looking up at Draco now, most of them looking cross and angry.

"You are purposefully filibustering away time before the first whistle, Potter, and I don't appreciate it. Weasley- no, the female one," he sighed as both Ron and Ginny stepped forward. "Weaslette," he corrected, "please, just one word."

"You will not mock my players, Malfoy," Harry growled, stepping in front to block Ginny who readily stepped forward, his hand held across her stomach protectively, and a flare of annoyance and something more rose up in Draco's stomach.

"Give it a rest, Harry," Ginny said, brushing his arm aside. "Its probably about potions." Harry gave her the most bemused expression as she hustled up the hill and grabbed Draco's arm and dragged him a few feet away from her teammates. "_What?!_" Behind her they could hear Harry complaining about distracting his players with potions homework before a big game, and Draco smirked at the thought that his opponent was so dense, and that the girl in front of him was so… _Slytherin_.

"I don't know what Tom told you, but I am warning you that if you even begin to play like shit I'll personally never let you live it down. I'd like a real game today, please."

"That was blunt. Well said, Draco," came her scathing response. "Screw off. I've told you before, you don't understand our relationship, and I don't expect you to, but don't pretend that you do either." As she turned to walk away, he grabbed her upper arm. "Don't. Touch. Me." She snarled, wrenching her arm away. Behind them, Harry took another threatening step forward.

"Then give us your A game."

"You don't get it, Draco. If we lose, I lose, if we win, I lose. The best thing for me to do is to make Tom happy."

"Are you even listening to yourself?"

"Sod off!" She snarled. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back on his heels, and raising his eyebrows. The fringe of his hair whipped in the wind as she began to turn around, swiftly pulling her hair up into a pony tail on the top of her head as she did so.

"Fine then," he said, "I know you'll drop the Quaffle anyway. I was just hoping to scare you into playing a little better than you would normally. Its almost no fun to have to play you _and_ your brother, you're both shite on the pitch. And you're just as clumsy off of your broom as you are on it. Be careful of broom cupboards, or I'll have Tom beating up on Potter again."

"You want a game, Malfoy?" She asked, whipping around, her hair smacking her in the face. "I'll give you a game." She stalked forward, poking him hard in the chest, getting up in his face. "I'll give you the best damn game I've ever played." He smirked, leaning down until their faces were centimeters apart.

"I look forward to beating you," he breathed, watching as her eyes widened just a fraction and she took a step backward. "Tell Potter thanks, for me," he called over his shoulder, leaving her at the top of the hill, hoping he hadn't left her too rattled.

Ginny's eyes flew to the golden handwriting on the side of the pitch as she looped around the golden hoops. They were absolutely dominating Slytherin, and she smirked to herself as she dropped below her fellow chasers, dogging the Slytherins who were headed toward Ron. He had only let four quaffles in all night. The score of 150-40 had her nowhere near ready to relax, though. As a bludger swerved toward the Slytherin Chasers, Ginny dropped underneath of them, scooping up the dropped Quaffle. The fans roared as she tossed it to Demelza Robins, who had a far stronger arm than her.

"GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"

The cry that followed was deafening, and Demelza did a loop while Ginny overtook the Quaffle again and scored. "ONEHUNDRED AND SEVENTY TO FOURTY- GRYFFINDOR! It's starting to look ugly out there, AND POTTER DIVES! C'MON HARRY! BEAT THAT SLIMY NO GOOD—Oh sorry professor."

Lee Jordan, who had already graduated, often came back to be a guest announcer for the Hogwarts games, and since this one was the final game for the year, he had practically begged to join them. It proved to be a problem, though, as house loyalties held fast, and he was definitely biased toward Harry whipping the Slytherin team. Ginny turned her head to catch a glance of Draco scanning the field casually, not following Harry into the spine tingling dive. As she stared, he turned his gaze on her and smirked. Sighing in exasperation, Ginny returned her focus on the game, just in time to catch the quaffle from Megan Spinnet (Alicia's little sister).

"AND WEASLEY TAKES THE QUAFFLE, SPEEDING TOWARD THE ENEMY LINES, AND, OH NO! SLYTHERIN BEATERS CRABBE AND GOYLE ON EITHER SIDE OF HER- THAT IS A FOUL IF I EVER SAW ONE! WHY AREN'T YOU CALLING FOULS ON THOSE BOGGIE EATING SLUGS, REF?!"

Ginny didn't need the slightly frightening commentary on the game to know what was going to happen next. Goyle reached out and gripped the handle of her broom in front of her hands while Crabbe gripped the back, just behind her bum. They nodded at each other, and Goyle pushed down while Crabbe whipped the back end up. Letting out a screech, Ginny dropped the Quaffle as she spiraled, doing 180 after 180 toward the base of the hoops. She couldn't hear the terrified screams from the spectators over the roar of the wind in her ears.

Panic seeping through her veins, Ginny felt herself somersault once more before she jerked hard upward on her broom, causing it to right itself just before she flattened herself in the ground. Her toes skimmed the grass, and she paused, hovering above the ground. The screams had turned into a deafening cheer, the stands were actually shaking with the surge of support for the Gryffindor chaser. She held her fist up in the air as she rose.

"COME ON PROFESSOR- PENALTY SHOT FOR GRYFFINDOR! THAT WAS MAGNIFICANT GINNY WEASLEY! WE ALL THOUGHT YOU WERE A GONER! ABSOLUTELY MAGNIFICANT!" Ginny grinned in Lee Jordan's direction. "AND POTTER CALLS FOR A TIME OUT!"

Ginny turned to see Harry speeding toward the ground and nimbly jump off, shouting at Professor Mcgonagall, pointing up at the green cloaked team. Ginny watched as the professor nodded, and shrilly blew a whistle.

"Both teams to the ground, please!"

It was seconds after each team touched the ground that Harry verbally launched at Draco. Ginny rose her eyebrows.

"Control your damn players, Malfoy! That was the most ridiculous, most outlandish, obvious foul I have ever seen." Ron and Jack Sloper, one of the beaters, looked at each other before grabbing Harry's shoulders, keeping him from getting any closer to Draco Malfoy. A vein was beginning to throb on his forehead on the opposite side of his scar. "I know you Slytherins can't stand to lose, but cheating that openly is ridiculous! If I see you anywhere near her again!"

"Oh, shut up, Potter," Draco sneered, leaning against his broomstick casually and glancing over Harry's shoulder at Ginny, who was standing behind Ron, a hand over her mouth. For a moment she thought she recognized a brief flicker of concern- but for what?- before his eyes flashed back to cold and icy, locked onto Harry's. "I told my team to play fair. You can give them veritaserum if you really want to. You can have your penalty shot without a fight, I won't even complain. What my beaters did was wrong, but it wasn't my plan, no matter how genius it was." Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles appreciatively.

"She could have died!"

"Last time I checked, she wasn't your girlfriend to be worried about. Still upset about that are you, Potter? Besides, it unfortunately looks like the little Weasel is breathing to me."

Ginny watched as Harry's face screwed up and he took another step forward, straining against Ron and Jack's strong grip. Sighing, she stepped between them, just as Mcgonagall came bustling over, looking fierce. "Alright, alright, Harry we'll take the penalty shot. Don't listen to him, he's just trying to get you to hit him so that you get into trouble, calm down." She put both of her hands on Harry's chest, sending Malfoy a scathing look over her shoulder. "You won't get rid of me that easily, anyway. Come on, Harry we have a game to win." Harry sent one last scorching look at Draco before he turned around and grabbed his broom.

"AND IT LOOKS AS THOUGH THEY GOT THEIR LITTLE TIFF SETTLED…HARRY LOOKED LIKE HE WANTED TO HIT MALFOY THERE, SLIMY LITTLE GIT PROBABLY DESERVED IT." There was a brief pause, where Ginny was sure Lee Jordan was being swatted by whoever was taking the place of professor Mcgonagall. "AND GRYFFINDOR HAS THE PENALTY SHOT, RIGHTFULLY, MIND YOU. GINNY WEASLEY TAKES HER PLACE BEFORE THE HOOPS, SQUARING UP WITH MILLENT. ALRIGHT GINNY, BE ONE WITH THE HOOPS, OLD GIRL."

Ginny rolled her eyes, tempted to shoot a look at Jordan as she steadied her broom in front of the three golden hoops. Susan Millent, the Slytherin Keeper, glared at her, her lips pulled up into a sneer, and except for Lee Jordan's commentary, the entire stadium was silent. Just as the quaffle released from Ginny's fingertips, ready to soar through the far hoop, the stands erupted again.

"AND MALFOY IS SPEEDING TOWARD THE GROUND, OH MY GOD, IT LOOKS AS THOUGH HE MAY CRASH! POTTER IS TAILING HIM! COME ON, HARRY!"

Ginny whipped around, her hair hitting her in the face as she watched in awe, the quaffle falling, forgotten, to the grass below. Draco Malfoy, flying magnificently, was plummeting in a nose dive toward the base of the Slytherin stands, his house mates cheering him on. Harry was a good five feet behind him, leaning flat against his broom to make it go faster.

If Malfoy managed to pull out of this dive, it would be one of the most beautiful catches in Hogwarts history.

"AND OH MY GOD, HE'S DONE IT! LEVELED OUT WITH THE GROUND, LOOKS LIKE HE'S GOING TO MAKE IT, AS LONG AS HE DOESN'T HIT THE TOWER. AND THERE HE'S DONE IT, HE'S CAUGHT THE SNITCH!"

In a whirl of green, Malfoy's hand closed around the snitch and he whipped upward spiraling higher, and higher into the sky.

"I CANNOT BELIEVE IT! SLYTHERIN CAUGHT THE SNITCH, BUT, _GRYFFINDOR WINS_!"

As each individual plummeted to the ground, landing amid storming students, Ginny felt herself being lifted up onto someone's shoulders, and knotted her fingers in her brother's bright red hair to hold on. The fans around them were screaming, carrying them like a wave toward Professor Dumbledore, who stood under the hoops, holding the gleaming Quidditch Cup. Squirming off of Ron's shoulders, she braced Harry in a quick hug, feeling his lips graze against the top of her head, in what she was sure was an accident. Laughing, joyously, Ginny spun around, stopping to face a pink cheeked, face obviously flushed with the excitement of his catch, Draco Malfoy.

Without stopping to think, Ginny threw her arms around his neck. The world seemed to stop as she buried her face in his neck, her memories taking her back to the evening in the room of requirement when he'd held her out of pity or sadness, not out of this hype, this joy, this… excitement. He didn't bat an eyelash as he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up off of the ground. She could feel the snitch's tiny wings beat against her hip, as it was still clutched in his fist. With time still standing still, he twirled her lifted body in a circle, laughter rumbling in his chest at her apparent joy. As he set her down, she leaned back, grinning.

"Thank you," she whispered, barely heard over the crowd.

"Ginny?"

"Tom!"


	5. Chapter 5

Draco Malfoy immediately dropped his arms from around Ginny's waist, quietly studying his friend. To the average person, Tom didn't look all that angry; he didn't even look mad. But Draco (and probably Ginny) who had known him for years, knew better. Tom's eyes had taken on this odd sheen, the dark brown suddenly appearing, only slightly, tinged with red. The rest of his face was flat, dead, cold, and empty. That was a trick he had learned from Draco, actually. And his own face quickly masked itself, essentially copying Tom's. He watched as Ginny looked between both of them, and then turned around to stare expectantly at Tom.

"I suppose congratulations are in order," he said tightly as he closed in on the redhead, wrapping an arm around her waist in an almost possessive manner, and brushing a kiss against her forehead. "That was some excellent flying." And then he turned to look at his friend, Draco raised his eyebrows in the most miniscule way he possibly could.

How could Tom even know what Draco's thoughts had been? He'd gotten the best of both worlds today, really. He'd _finally _beaten Potter as a seeker in their last game at Hogwarts and now he had allowed Gryffindor to beat Slytherin- which wasn't really all that attractive but which also meant that Tom would be tested. Not that his friend could read his mind to find that out, or anything, but still, the way that he was looking at him felt like that may be the case.

Defensively crossing his arms over his chest, Draco spread his stance, watching as his friend appraised him.

"Congratulations on finally besting Potter, as well, I feel that even Krum would have been jealous of that dive." Draco nodded toward his companion. "Ginny, why don't you and I have dinner tonight to celebrate?"

"I was going to go to the party in the common room," Ginny said, tilting her head to the side to look up at Tom, "besides, we're going out tomorrow to Hogsmeade, you can just congratulate me again, there. Two days of celebration are _so_ much better than one." Standing up on tiptoe, and completely oblivious, or so it appeared to Draco, of Tom's sudden rigidness, she kissed his cheek and grabbed her broom.

"Good game, Malfoy!" She called over her shoulder, "I suppose I'll be seeing you on our rounds tomorrow night!" Draco nodded in her direction, the tiniest of grins breaking out across his lips before he managed to flatten it again. Shouldering his broom, he looked at Tom.

"I guess you won't want any celebrating tonight," he said, chuckling to himself. "I'm pretty pleased, though." Without another word he started off in the direction of the locker rooms, unaware if Tom had chosen to follow him there.

The mood wasn't as somber as he had expected. Nearly everyone was angry with Crabbe and Goyle for giving Weasley the foul shot, without it Slytherin would have stood a chance at winning. Other than that, though, people were in a celebratory mood about beating Potter, at the very least. Throwing his broom into his locker, he tossed his robes into a magic hamper that sent them straight to the laundry that the Slyhterin House Elves did. Stripped down to his boots and cream colored riding pants, Draco stepped into the showers, using a silencing charm to silence the sound of voices, needing some silent time to think.

After most games, especially losses, it wasn't uncommon for the Slytherin Captain to walk into the showers and disappear until everyone else was gone. It was exactly what he was doing now, though really for different reasons. As the hot water washed away the sweat from the game and he pushed shampoo through his hair his mind drifted immediately to Ginny Weasley and her current situation.

There was something that she wasn't telling him. He'd been mulling it over since that night they'd had dinner. Since then, of course, she had refused to skip any more of their rounds, and they had been reduced to whispering quietly as they stalked through the hallways. They didn't just talk about Tom, there were obviously nights when she had refused to do so, so her family, and his had come up. Their childhoods, quidditch, favorite foods… Occasionally, if he really got her talking about something, _really_ talking about something, they would break into an empty classroom and rustle up something to snack on while they talked. The Slytherin House Elves came in handy for that.

She'd never repeated herself about the diary. It was eating away at him with curiosity. Had he and his father accidently handed this girl something that was never meant to happen? Or had his father done so on purpose, with hopes that Ginny would get to know Tom Quandary? And what did she mean by diary? Surely not pages and paper- how in the world would they communicate that way? He tried to picture a sketched image of Tom and Ginny's faces on otherwise blank paper, talking. She had said it worked like a mirror…

But even if they were talking through that kind of diary, how did Tom know about what was happening at Hogwarts? He had been in Bulgaria, at Drumstrang. Surely news that detailed that it pushed the young girl to sickness didn't get published in papers over there. And what kind of boy would tell a girl something like that? Draco was said to be sadistic, sure, but he knew where to draw the line, especially with those he considered his friends. Slyhtherins looked out for their own. Running a hand through his wet hair to push it back from his forehead, he reached through the steam to turn off the water jets. Wrapping a towel around his waist he stepped out of the shower stall.

"Merlin, what kind of girl are you, taking that long in the shower?"

In the second it took to look up and see Tom, he was pinned against the wall with an arm thrown across his neck. Now, Tom was strong, Draco knew that, but he thought he was stronger. Quidditch certainly helped build up muscle. Being in a towel, though, may not be the time to test that theory.

"What in Merlin's name is wrong with you?" Draco growled.

"I asked you before the game, _mate_, who's side you were on. I kindly reminded you not to forget where your loyalties were supposed to lay. And what did you go and do? You lost the damn game."

"Its just a quidditch game, mate," Draco said, watching his friend as he pulled a breath, long and slow, through his lips. Having an aunt named Bellatrix at least came in handy when you got into fights. She had some twisted ideas of punishments and time-outs.

"I wanted her- them- to lose."

"Why? It isn't like your name was going to go on the trophy or anything, anyway."

"I don't care about some stupid trophy," Tom snarled, pressing harder against Draco's throat. Draco's hand had reached up to grasp Tom's wrist, and applied slight pressure to keep him from choking him too much. "I already have one, for great acts to the school. It was just a way to keep my mouth shut."

"What are you talking about?"

"Shut up. Do you understand what you've done?"

"Oh, come off it, Tom. I swear to god if I see one bruise on that girl after Hogsmeade Tomorrow."

"You're starting to sound like Potter, Draco. You'll what? It isn't like she is anything important to you. You _hate_ her and her family. You can't _stand_ her poor worthless arse. You think I'm wasting my time with the likes of _her_. Where did all of this respect and kindness toward her come from then, hm? You snogging my girl, Malfoy? You shagging her?"

"What? No! And I don't hate her, Quandary, I just don't think that."

"But you've thought about it, haven't you?!" Tom roared, interrupting his friend. "That's probably why you take so long in the showers, isn't it, you sick little perv? Thinking about all the things that you want to do to her? Jealous that I get to?"

"You have completely lost your mind, mate."

"I'll let you in on a little secret, _mate_." Tom pressed harder against Draco, leaning in so his face was near his ear. He was several inches shorter than Draco, and the boy almost felt obliged to lean down so he could reach. "Those bruises? I don't hit her like you think I do. She likes it that way. She _likes_ it when she's punished for nothing. Makes her scream." Tom smirked, licking his lips. "And I like it when she screams."

"And you're the one calling me a perv, Tom?" Draco snarled, finally pushing against a person he used to call his friend. "You're disgusting." His friend stumbled backward, breathing heavily where he stood. "That lie may work for most of the thickheaded idiots that don't want to see what you are actually doing to that girl, but it isn't going to work for me." Pushing a hand through his hair, he turned around, walking toward the lockers, shaking his head.

"We're through, Draco. Do you hear me? Through! And if I see you near her again, she won't be the only one in trouble."

"You can't keep telling her what to do. And you definitely don't scare me, so don't even try telling me."

He watched as his friend's lip curled up.

"You've messed with the wrong wizard, Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes, pulling his locker open and yanking out the black cotton sweatpants and a jumper. His mother was known to, occasionally, buy fashionable muggle clothes and had taught him how to dress as one at a young age. When Tom had first moved into their home she had tried to convince him of the importance of it, and it took Draco attacking him about being rude to his mother to get him to shut up and deal with it.

"Honestly, Tom," he said, shouldering his broom and turning to face the young man behind him while pulling on his trainers. "I think its you that messed with the wrong man."

"Ron you didn't see him grab her wrist!"

"Merlin, Harry, you've been harping about my sister since she and Tom started dating, but its just starting to get old." Harry stared at his friend in hurt disbelief. They were standing in the Gryffindor locker rooms. The rest of the team was celebrating, and Ron had been too, until Harry had pulled him aside. Now they were standing off to the side, arguing with each other in hushed whispers so Ginny wouldn't be able to hear them. "Why can't you just be happy that she's happy? And why can't you just be happy that you won?"

"You think she's happy?!" Harry watched as his friend turned to look at him, with slightly widened eyes.

"Is this about you not catching the snitch? Look, Harry, you've had a great seven years as a quidditch player, and a good run as a captain. Let it go. We still won, the rest of your team helped you out."

"It isn't about that!"

Really, though, Harry felt an acidy bile roiling in his stomach as he thought about Malfoy's hand closing around the snitch. When Lee Jordan had shouted that Malfoy was going into a dive, Harry hadn't even been watching him, and by the time he had pushed his Firebolt on fast enough, it had been too late. He was an excellent flier, and Malfoy was probably the only students to really rival him that was currently a student at Hogwarts, and he had proved that today.

He ground his teeth together as he relived the tunnel vision he had obtained as Malfoy pulled out of the dive, completely parallel with the ground, his toes maybe six inches from the long, green grass. And then he hadn't even crashed, he thought, bitterly, as he recalled how smoothly the blonde snake had instead gone completely vertical, and spiraled his way up around the Slytherin stands, showing off.

"It really isn't," he tried again, desperately trying to keep the crazy look off of his face. "Look, Ron, I just… I just want your sister to be happy, that's all. I don't care that it isn't with me. But I also want her to be safe, and I don't think she is with this guy. All of his friends are total gits, and, Ron, do you even look at her? She looks miserable, like half of herself." Ron sighed, shutting his locker after pulling on the sweater his mother had knitted for him.

"Harry. Tom is not my favorite person in the world. I'm not a terrible brother, I have sat down and talked to her about it before. I've asked her if she's happy, and she wouldn't lie to me."

"Oh, no?"

"Are you even listening to yourself? You have nothing to go off of except for biased looks. I trust my sister. You should trust her." Ron shook his head, sighing. "Or you should at least trust me."

"Ron!" Harry started, but his friend had already walked away to head back up to the castle. Slamming his locker door shut, Harry marched into the showers.

You know how people say that you stand under the water for 20 minutes thinking and really only actually bathe for five? That was exactly the position that Harry Potter was in. Half blind without his glasses, and then completely blind because of the debilitating steam from the hot water, he stood under the jets, sulking.

He'd seen Draco grab Ginny's arm before the game that day. He'd seen them interact in the hallways. She always seemed like whatever they were talking about was making her uncomfortable. And it wouldn't surprise him if the traces of purple bruises he'd seen on her arms the other week had been from Tom.

Snarling, Harry punched the shower wall, wishing he'd thought of putting a silence charm on the shower. Screaming out this angst would feel so right, right now. Massaging his knuckles, he looked up, letting the hot water stream right down his face.

Why wouldn't she just talk to him? Was he really as crazy as Ron and Hermione were saying? Maybe… Maybe kissing her after the game wasn't the right thing to do, he just hadn't been able to control that urge. Maybe she didn't realize. In frustration, he squeezed his eyes shut, running soapy hands down his face.

Thoughts like these ran round and round his head until he climbed out of the shower, pulling on denim jeans and a button up flannel. Pushing his hands through his unruly black hair, Harry put his glasses back on and stared at himself in the mirror.

Maybe Ron was right… Maybe he should just go back to pursuing Cho Chang again, she and Cedric had seemed to be on the outs the other day. And Susan Bones was beautiful, she might be fun to hang around. Maybe if he did something to get his mind off of Ginny he wouldn't think the relationship she was in was so bad, and he would realize it was just jealousy that was fueling his thoughts. Slinging his broom of his shoulder, Harry turned to look for his final time, as a student, at the Gryffindor locker rooms. He would be asking Dumbledore to name Ginny Weasley the Quidditch Captain next year, she deserved it. Running his hand across the face of the lion that was carved into the wall by the door, Harry sighed, flipped off the lights, and left the room.

"Watch it, Potter!"

"Watch where you are going next time, Quandary," Harry retorted, stopping short as the dark haired boy pushed by him. He watched him go, noting his fisted hands, and turned around when he heard someone behind him. Malfoy.

"What's got him upset?"

"Probably your ugly mug," the blonde responded, not batting a lash as he turned to lock the Slytherin changing rooms. Harry had always heard that Malfoy's father had bought the team whirlpool tubs and a mini bar when Malfoy had bought his way onto the team. It wasn't until later that Harry realized Malfoy was just an honest to Merlin good flier. Harry rolled his eyes, and turned to walk up to the castle, not catching the odd look on Draco's face from his recent fight.

"Yeah, just don't keep her too long, if you couldn't tell, we're celebrating!"

"I see that, would you just go get her please?"

Ginny turned her head when she heard her boyfriend's voice, and she tilted her head to the side. Jack Sloper, one of the team's beaters had opened the portrait hole to find Tom Quandary asking for Ginny, and was now standing next to him, an arm thrown over his shoulder like they were friends. Quirking an eyebrow, Ginny picked her Butterbeer back up from the table and walked toward the portrait hole to where Jack was waving obnoxiously.

"Had a little too much tonight, Jack?" Tom was saying, glancing down at the short, stocky boy.

"When Forge and Gred heard about, I mean, Fred and George, you know, Ginny's older brothers, heard about their little sister's immaculate performance, and their brother's too, of course, they sent in some Ogden's finest." He was giggling, and gave a great hiccup by the time Ginny reached them through the crowd.

"You probably shouldn't be telling people that, Jack," she warned quietly, looking from him to her boyfriend. "What are you doing here, Tom?" He gave her a tight, closed lipped smile, and patted Jack Sloper on the back. Taking her elbow in his palm, he steered her through the gyrating crowd. She sent happy smiles toward her friends as she half marched half tripped past dancing, singing, laughing people.

Up until two minutes ago, she had been in the best mood of her life. Her blooming friendship with Draco was starting to pay off, if only someone could get her that worked up about everything, then she would probably win at life. Her team had won, she was no where near Tom, Harry was keeping his distance, and Fred and George had sent in the best celebratory gift, she could still feel the buzz around her temples.

She hadn't even been drinking that much, she thought as Tom propelled her toward the spiral staircase that led to the women's rooms. She'd just been curled up in one of the best chairs in front of the fire places. Fred had just left, and he'd managed to send her into a fit of giggles. But now she felt like her vision was a tunnel and she couldn't quite walk in a straight line without Tom's help.

"Where…Where are we going?" She murmured as he finally stopped her at the base of the staircase.

"You," he said, smiling over her head at someone before looking back at her, "are going to march that winning little arse up those stairs and pack your bags."

"Why?"

"I want to make sure you go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow."

"I promised I would," she argued, crossing her arms over her chest, feeling ridiculously like a child about to stamp her foot. Tom frowned.

"I thought you'd like the idea of spending the night with me," he said, looking at her with mild frustration. "And I don't care if you promised, it is what is happening. Don't forget that book." Then he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "And change into something a little less revealing, nearly every bloke in here was ogling your chest." Ginny rolled her eyes, she was wearing a red and gold flannel with the top button undone.

"Please," she muttered.

"Go," he said, taking her shoulder and turning her around, slapping her butt as he did so.

"No," she said, finally, staring up the stairs. "Tom, I want to stay here with my friends and celebrate. We won, I'm sorry that you're upset about that, but we did, and I deserve to enjoy our victory without you being upset with me."

"Don't make a scene, Gin. Go on upstairs, pack some clothes for tomorrow, and then come back downstairs. We can leave without even telling anyone."

"Tom. I don't want to leave," Ginny said, turning to stare at him, her arms still crossed over her chest. "I said I'd be at Hogsmeade with you tomorrow, and I meant it, you need to trust me."

"Speaking of trust," Tom said, running the edge of his thumb along his wand, staring at her, "you won't be with Draco Malfoy anymore. I don't want you with him, so talk to your brother, or I will."

"You can't just tell me who I can be friends with."

"Hah! You think he only wants to be your friend? He just wants an easy shag, Ginny."

"And how would he know I'm an easy shag, Tom?" She snapped, staring at him. "Are you telling him that I am?"

"I told you to go upstairs and pack."

"Bite me," she growled, moving to shove past him toward her friends. After that it all happened too quickly for Ginny to process.

"_Imperio._"

At the whispered curse a fog filled her head, and she just registered the shock that showed on her face when she looked at him. It was the oddest feeling, being able to hear yourself think, being able to tell your body to stop, and then slowly losing your voice to the fog. Tom's voice rattled in her head.

_"Don't look at me like that, Gin. If you had just listened to me to begin with, we wouldn't have this problem_." She felt her body turn of its own accord and start up the stairs, her movements rigid and boxy. The alcohol in her tummy was sloshing uncomfortably. She had a feeling that if she was in control of her own body she would vomit.

"_Now, lets start with this shirt. I said something more conservative, so lets find it."_ He had her dig through her trunk and pull out a jumper with the letter G knitted into it, in blue. Her mother's. After she'd changed, he had her stuff a hodgepodge of clothes into a tote bag she'd pulled out of her trunk. His diary was safely stored in the bottom.

_"Good. Now you're going to come downstairs, and take my hand, we're going to walk out of the common room together. Move."_

Jerkily, she swung the bag over her shoulder and then started down the stairs, her stomach still sloshing uncomfortably. The walk after taking Tom's hand was a blur, and she was fairly sure people didn't even look at her, it was like they had been concealed. Inwardly whimpering at the feeling of Tom's hand land lightly on her back, he guided her through the crowd and out of the common room. Silence slammed down on her ears as the portrait hole closed and they wandered through the dark castle.

_"Now, when we get back to my common room, I want you to ignore all of them. They're celebrating Malfoy's win, but you're going to walk right by them and go to my rooms, you hear me?" _He sneered as he made her nod, and she just wanted to cry. The air got cooler as she walked toward the dungeons, and through the blank wall she could hear the music. It sounded like techno, something loud and dark, catchy, something you had to move scandalously to. As the wall assembled into a pillar she was temporarily blinded and deafened by the strobe lighting and the booming of the music. It looked like they had pushed all the furniture to the edges of the room, making a square sort of pit. A snake pit, she thought fleetingly as Tom pushed her forward. In the corner of her vision she saw Draco dancing, though that wasn't the exact term for it, slinking, slithering, grinding, maybe, with another girl. She couldn't tell or not, from here, if it was Pansy, and if it was, would Blaise actually let her dance with him like that?

_"Look forward. Just keep walking. I don't even want to hear your thoughts about him. I told you, you are not allowed to see him anymore." _She wanted to demand what he expected of her that night when Draco walked into their dormitory to sleep. Was she supposed to pretend to be blind, was she not to talk to him? _"What did I just say? Don't make me go deeper on your mind, love, I'm being nice right now."_

The sound of their party got fainter as the descended deeper under the school. The murky windows of the lake growing darker with each step. The usual mystical feeling that she got when she was here, the feeling that she was on some magnificent sunk ship, was gone. Instead she felt cold, alone and scared.

She felt her arm drop her bag on his bed, and then felt the spell start to lift. As soon as her mind started to defog, when she could no longer hear his voice in her brain, she turned and dashed toward the door, only to be caught around her waist by his outstretched arm.

"Where in the bloody _hell_ do you think you're going?" He growled, throwing her back toward the bed. She stumbled, but ran for the door again. This time, he caught her wrist in his strong grip. She struggled, trying to tear herself away, using her other hand to hit his chest, tears leaking out of her eyes. He grabbed that hand as well. "Its cute when you try to fight it, Gin, it really is."

"I'll scream," she said, staring up at him, suddenly stilling. "I'll scream so loudly, they'll come running."

"What, they'll hear you over that party out there? Don't be dense. Besides, during our disagreement today, I told Draco that whatever you've been telling him to get him to like you is a lie. I told him that you screamed because you _enjoyed_ it." He smirked nastily down at her.

"Do _not_ touch me," she whispered, her eyes widening. "And there is no way he believed that," her voice was low, only a whisper, as she started to pull against his hold again, scared.

"I'll do what I like, love, and you'll like it."


	6. Chapter 6

"Where are we going?"

"Stop asking questions. You already swore to me that you'd do everything I asked you to, today."

"Yes, but."

"No but's." Tom was staring straight ahead, he hadn't looked at her since last night. Last night when he'd failed to make her scream. She'd taken a vow of silence as soon as her back touched the green and silver duvet on his bed. He'd been over her, near her, holding her down, hurting her, everything that he normally did to make her react, make her yell, but last night she'd let the remainder of that fog from the Imperius curse slip over her eyes. She didn't feel anything, she could tell it was going on, but the usual heartache, the usual terror didn't affect an empty shell.

Ginny Weasley had woken up about the same way she'd fallen asleep: entangled against his body, sore and bruising, and exhausted. Last night, through the gap in the drapes that had been pulled across Tom's bed, she could see Draco Malfoy staring at her. Tom had fallen asleep, and the sounds of the party had gone away completely, just the odd glow from the lake was filling the room now. The look in Draco's eyes as he watched her slowly come to, slowly assess the damage and have her eyes fill with tears was not a look she expected. Disappointment, pain, hurt? Surly he didn't believe. Surly he wasn't going to stop seeing her. But when she'd gotten up at dawn, padding softly out of the room toward the showers, his bed had been empty, and there had been no time to ask.

"In here." He grabbed her hand, the first time he'd touched her since last night, and she flinched. He didn't notice, just yanked her into a darkened pub.

"The Hog's Head?" She muttered, scrunching up her nose.

"Stay silent. And put your head down, you're already attracting too many looks. I don't know why you threw such a fit about wearing that." Ginny ducked her head, looking down at her clothes. She'd selected a perfectly conservative fit and flare dress in navy blue;it reached her mid thigh. In fact, it had a crew neck and a wrapped waist with long sleeves. The only thing he didn't like about it was the back… probably because there wasn't one. She fidgeted with her hands, remembering that she had only thrown a fit because it was actually he that had picked out the dress last night, not her. Biting her lip, she looked at her shoes, following his orders.

Handing her his diary, Tom pointed toward a table in the corner.

"Go sit over there," he said, not looking at her as he strode toward the bar where a hunch backed man was wiping out a dusty glass with a disgusting looking rag. Ginny shuddered, and walked quickly toward the table he had indicated to. This was certainly not the celebratory date that she had been expecting yesterday after the game, and despite the way he had acted last night, she had thought he would be over it by now. No such luck. Instead he seemed to wake up in even more foul mood than he had been in last night.

From her seat in the corner, Ginny watched Tom argue with a gentleman at the bar. She couldn't see the man's face, and he was mostly covered by a dark black cloak. Apparently this wasn't the place to be seen, regardless of your class status. Pursing her lips, she watched as they exchanged a small brown paper covered parcel. Tom quietly tucked it into his robes, then looked at Ginny. She squirmed under his gaze as he spoke to the stranger and finally nodded. Motioning for her to meet him at the door, Ginny hopped up and walked briskly away, passing by the stranger Tom had been talking to. There wasn't anything remarkable about him, though she was fairly positive she'd seen that cane before. Brushing the thought from her mind, she threaded her fingers through his offered hand and he whisked her out of the pub.

"Who was that?"

"What did I say about questions?"

"I don't think its very fair that you drag me into a disgusting, very sketchy pub and then expect me to be silent like a child. At least tell me what he handed you." Tom narrowed his eyes, as if thinking as they walked up a familiar trail away from Hogsmeade and toward the Shrieking Shack. It was starting to get hotter as the day progressed, and Ginny really just wanted to head down to The Three Broomsticks for some lunch, but she followed Tom like a lost puppy.

"A gentleman from Bulgaria contacted my grandparents," he said, walking toward the fence that bordered the Shrieking Shack's property and resting his hands on it, staring out at its expanse. "He said that he had found something belonged to my mother and was interested in selling it back to them. They weren't fond of my mother, you see, because of who she married."

Ginny had heard this story before. Tom's parents were muggle lovers, which Ginny didn't see the problem but had never asked why he didn't like it. Their daughter, Tom's mother, was born a Squib, and had married a dark wizard (which, in hindsight, she thought, is probably why he didn't like his grandparents). Her parents were so upset with the marriage that they had disowned their daughter and never treated her son with the dignity that he felt he deserved.

"They threatened to jinx him off of the property," he continued, reaching into his inner coat pocket to pull out the package. "He found me, instead, and I told him since it was my birthright I wouldn't be paying for it. He hand delivered it himself." He began to unwrap the package, and out tumbled a ring. He picked it up, holding it up to the light. "It was my father's actually, I believe he let my mother wear it on days that she felt particularly powerful. See, the Peverell coat of arms is on it, even. Pure-blood all the way, extraordinary." He laughed, and Ginny watched as the black stone glinted in the sunlight.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Wear it. What kind of question is that?" He rolled his eyes, slipping it on his middle finger of his left hand. It was a perfect fit. He turned to look at her then, eyes blazing. "Go into town, send a local up here. Tell them I'm hurt and need help."

"I thought we were done with all the lies," Ginny said wearily. "I thought you said this was enough after my first year."

"Do as I say! Or do I have to make you again?"

"I won't help you hurt someone, Tom."

"Ginny, I thought you wanted to help Harry." He had taken a few steps toward her now, and she could see right through the calm look on his face. She flinched.

"If you hate Harry so much, why do you want to help him?"

That's when he struck her, hard, across the cheek.

"I've seen the future, love," he said as she gasped in pain, holding her cheek. "I know who's side it is that I want to be on. Now, go and send someone up here, then get yourself some candy." He pushed a galleon into her hand, and she stared at the money like it was dirty. "I won't be back for dinner tonight, so don't bother eating at our table."

"I won't do it."

Tom's eyes flashed red, and Ginny forgot the rest.

"Where's that manipulative son of a bitch now?" Draco asked as he slid up onto a bar stool next to Ginny Weasley some odd hours later. She looked to be in a daze, leaning against the bar with a glass of something that looked, but probably didn't taste, like water between her hands. Her gaze was glazed over as she stared at it.

He'd meandered into The Three Broomsticks actually looking for Pansy and Blaise, the two had _promised_ they wouldn't be going to that disgusting tea parlor with the cupids any time soon, but he had a sinking suspicion that they had given him the slip and now he was stuck babysitting Crabbe and Goyle at Honeyduke's. That was bound to be like keeping two year olds from sticking their fingers in light sockets. It had been pure desperation that had driven him in here, and pure luck that he had found this red headed beauty.

Right before hand he'd had lunch with his father, who had said he was in Hogsmeade on business. They'd bumped into each other on accident outside of the post office, and his father had insisted that he treat him to lunch; there was an upper-scale deli on the other side of Zonko's Joke shop that they'd walked to.

Draco hadn't gotten the support he'd been expecting from his father when he told him about Tom and Ginny. In fact, his father seemed preoccupied when Tom's name came up. Wanted to know if he seemed to be up to anything interesting in school, if he had asked about getting a pet. It had been one of he most frustrating conversations, and Draco had decided that he wasn't going to get anywhere until he talked to his mother after the school year was over. Of course, by then, he was afraid that he would be too late. There were still several weeks on the school calendar left to cross off.

"Hm?" Ginny asked, snapping Draco out of his reverie.

"I said, where is your boyfriend? Quandary? You know, kind of tall bloke, dark hair, dating you?"

"I don't know. I can't remember," Ginny said, rubbing her head and frowning. It seemed to Draco that her words were slow, quiet, like she was having a hard time forming complete thoughts and making them come out in the form of words. They were almost slurred. "I suppose he'll tell me what happened later. He always does," she added. He watched as she gently ran her thumb across the cover of a small black diary as she spoke. Then he noticed the bruise that was starting to bloom across her cheek again.

"Is that from last night? Or did you trip into another broom closet?" He asked, reaching up to gently touch her cheek with his fingers, their proximity had electric currents shooting up his spine. Her skin jumped out from under his touch, and she finally turned to look at him.

"Oh god," she moaned. "Oh god."

"Oh god, what?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. Her face had suddenly become very pale. He watched as Ginny scrambled off of the barstool, leaving a gleaming galleon on the countertop where she had been sitting, and look at him.

"Look, I was really starting to like you, Draco," she said, her eyes darting around quickly, her voice hushed, "but, but I can't take another night like last night. I don't think… I don't think I can talk to you anymore." She put her hand to her head again, her eyes rolling backward for a moment, and she started to sway. "Oh Merlin," she whimpered. Draco leapt up.

"We need to get you to the hospital wing," he said, putting an arm behind her to catch her in case she fell.

"No, no, I need to get to the Shrieking Shack. I have to make… to make sure. Merlin, what have I done? Please, don't touch me," she whispered again. Gripping the back of the barstool she'd been sitting on, trying to take a step away from his arms when she suddenly swayed. Only because he was standing right there she landed in Draco's arms before she hit the floor. The immediate area looked up at him in surprise. Keeping her against him with one arm, he grabbed her drink, sniffing it. It didn't smell like there was poison in it. Still, it needed to be checked. It was relief when Pansy pushed through the on looking crowd to grab Ginny's hand.

"What did you do to her?!" She demanded, patting the redhead's cheek. Her breathing was very shallow, and she looked very ill.

"Nothing!" Draco snapped, glaring at Pansy. "Look, I'm going to take her up to the hospital wing, I need you to get this to Professor Snape, see if there is anything in it. Tell him that Ginny Weasley was drinking it before she passed out. Damn, she's cold." He gingerly picked her up, and Madam Rosmerta, who had been serving other tables quickly stopped him.

"Why don't cha take me chimney, luv," she said, worriedly looking at the girl, "it'll get cha there that much faster. I believe Poppy has a chimney as well."

_ "Oh no, what happened Mister Malfoy? I think I've seen you two in here enough in the past few weeks. Another broom closet? Set her down over here." Draco had followed her orders, laying the young woman in a bed toward the back of the room where she would be provided with more privacy. _

_ "She was drinking something at The Three Broomsticks," Draco said as he settled her in, she looked even paler when set against the white hospital sheets, "I'm not sure what it was, I sent Pansy Parkinson to Professor Snape with it. But she seemed upset about something, she just passed out." Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips as she looked at the young woman and erected curtains to surround the bed._

_ "I suppose we'll have to wait to see what Professor Snape says, poisons can be very difficult to work with if you don't know which one it is." She ran her hand across the girls forehead, tutting. "Freezing. Help me pile these blankets on her, Mister Malfoy, try to keep her as warm as possible. Where would this girl be without a friend like you, I say."_

"You don't know what it is?"

"Russian Vodka, Draco, I certainly know what it is. There isn't a single poison contaminating it. I'm sure if you took my class more seriously you would have been able to tell simply by smelling it."

"I didn't know if it was untraceable," Draco growled, running his hand through his hair.

"You said Miss Weasley was drinking this?"

"I don't know if she'd had any, but it was certainly hers. She paid for it."

"The headmaster really needs to speak to Rosmerta about not serving alcohol to students, even if they are 18…" He shook his head, dumping the remains of the drink into the fireplace. "Where is Miss Weasley now?"

"Hospital wing," Draco said, pulling on his hair slightly. "You have no idea what could have caused this?" Professor Snape looked at the boy in front of him in contemplation.

"Who was she with when this happened? Or before, rather."

"Her boyfriend. Tom."

"Quandary?"

"Yes. Why?" Draco looked up, Snape's voice had changed slightly at the name, and he was suddenly writing something on a scroll of parchment. "Is that important?"

_ "You've been here for awhile, Draco, why don't you head back down to your common room? Or go back to Hogsmeade, enjoy your day."_

_ "Can I come back later? To check on her?"_

_ Madam Pomfrey, so surprised by the worry in the Slytherin's voice, smiled, softening a little. _

_ "Of course. But go relax. She'll be fine. Come back in an hour or so."_

"Mister Malfoy, do you have reason to suspect that Ginny Weasley would be unsafe alone with this Tom?"

Did he just hear Professor Snape right? Was this his one opportunity to say what he was feeling, and to be honest and tell the truth? His mind raced in circles, why would Snape ask anything like that if he didn't suspect that something was up? But if he did then why hadn't he done something about it before now?

"Yes." Snape looked up at him for a moment before looking back down, his writing becoming faster.

"Do you know where Tom was when this happened?"

"She said she couldn't remember, but then started babbling about the Shrieking Shack before she passed out." The hook nosed professor nodded, setting his quill down, he folded the parchment into thirds and sealed it. "Maybe that's where they were?"

"Couldn't remember, you said?"

"No, she said that Tom would probably remind her later, that he always did." He shook his head. "Professor. Professor do you know anything about communicating through a diary?"

"I think you should run along to the hospital wing, Draco. Give Madam Pomfrey this if she doesn't let you immediately. You are to stay by the girl's side until I arrive with the headmaster, do you understand?"

"Of course."

"Good."

"And you said that Poppy reported that she was not responding."

"Correct."

There was a long pause and the silence that filled the office was impregnated with worry and fear. Albus Dumbledore removed his half moon spectacles to rub his weary eyes, and Snape sat stoically, watching the headmaster of Hogwarts.

"There is no way that he is back," he said, voice soft. "Not like this, anyway. We've been watching Quandary closely this whole time."

"But it would make sense for him to hide behind a Weasley and a Gryffindor. And you did say Draco said something about a diary, when that went missing we all feared the worst. It was only a matter of time before those fears came true," Dumbledore said, just as softly.

"So you believe that it is him, then, sir?"

"I cannot be sure of anything. We must talk to Miss Weasley."

"She could be cursed."

"Its more likely he's scared her to the point that she won't speak unless she really feels that she can trust the confidant. And if we are honest, Severus, that person would be neither of us."

"You think Potter, then?"

"Ah, you always let your true feelings for the boy show when you say his name, Severus. It is not his fault that he so resembles his father, you know." Severus Snape sneered, looking away from the headmaster's gentle gaze. "But, no, not Harry. I do not believe that he has the ability to draw the information out of the girl. She simply isn't as close to him as he would like her to be. No. I think Draco Malfoy will do the job, perfectly."

"What?"

"Yes. I'll contact Ronald Weasley and tell him to move around the prefect's schedule, that Master Draco and Miss Weasley are doing something of utmost importance for me."

"You cannot be thinking about dragging this boy between the darkest wizard of time and what he wants, can you?"

"You were suggesting Harry." Severus spluttered, glaring at Albus. Dumbledore smiled, his blue eyes twinkling over his spectacles. "I believe that a certain friendship has sprung up between the two. You said yourself that you were surprised by how much Master Malfoy seemed to care about the girl that he claimed to have hate so. I'm afraid that if Tom finds her before we've gotten any information out of her something disastrous could befall the child, we will have to set up a neutral room for them to sleep for the remainder of the weekend. Yes, the room by the kitchens. I'll go and conjure up a few beds. Go and see if Miss Weasley has roused yet, if not, then you know which counter spell to use."

"Poppy may not let me," Severus said, "she may not believe that that kind of dark magic was used against her students."

"She shouldn't object."


	7. Chapter 7

"Really, I can walk."

"I am much more comfortable wheeling you down there, Miss Weasley," Madam Pomfrey fussed, tucking a blanket around Ginny's legs before they left the hospital wing. "Besides, we don't want you passing out again. And if you were walking, I don't want to imagine what kind of head injury that would cause on these floors." Ginny's ears colored pink, and she threw her head back in frustration.

"If I promise never to drink again, can I just go back to my dormitory?"

"Professor Dumbledore," Snape's oily voice answered, "would prefer if you would stay on the first floor for the rest of the weekend. I'm sure he would be more than willing to explain why once we arrive in your quarters." They walked along the hallways to the school in a brooding silence, Snape and Draco exchanging looks all the while.

"What is he doing here?" She muttered, then, motioning to Draco Malfoy next to her. "I'm pretty sure Tom, _my boyfriend_, won't be comfortable with this idea. Why can't Tom just stay with me, anyway?"

"Again, I'm sure Headmaster Dumbledore would be more than happy to explain when we arrive," Snape responded, thinking that Ginny Weasley sounded incredibly like the squeaky wheel on her chair.

"Don't you worry, dear, everything will be fine." Ginny nodded, though she didn't feel fine at all as she sat twisting her fingers around in her lap as they stopped in front of a suit of armor. They were near the kitchens, close to the Hufflepuff common rooms, Ginny knew.

"Lemon Drop," Madam Pomfrey said, and the suit of armor stepped aside, clanking, and the wall in front of it disappeared, creating a pretty rounded arch. "Now, this is just for the night…" Madame Pomfrey said, wheeling her inside. The room was large and circular, like a tower. There was a fire pit in the center of the room, and like in the Slytherin Common Rooms, there was no smoke, but unlike Slytherin, a table surrounded it with many burnt orange and moss green pillows on the floor to sit on. Two full sized beds were placed at opposite ends of the room, facing each other. Ginny stared at the other bed.

"He's sleeping in here?" Her voice came out in a nervous squeak.

"I'm sure Master Tom will be fine with that," came Headmaster Dumbledore's soft voice. He smiled kindly at Ginny Weasley, walking toward her to take her hand from the fire place. "Why don't you stand up, we can take a seat at the table and go over the expectations for the weekend." Ginny stared at him, mouth slightly open, and refusing to take his hand.

"I don't think Tom will be fine with it," she said, staring with wide eyes at Dumbledore. "He doesn't want me speaking to Malfoy." She said his name with such venom that they all rose their eyebrows. "Look, I just don't need any drama with Tom. Just let me go back to my dormitory and I'll be fine."

"Miss Weasley, you will listen to me on this. For the remainder of the weekend you and Master Malfoy will be staying here. Draco is going to be speaking to you about some very serious information and I do hope that you take him seriously. If you are so afraid of what Tom might do if he found out about this arrangement then we will have a meeting on Monday to discuss that particular relationship."

"But."

"No, Miss Weasley, I am not done," Dumbledore said, holding up his hand. "This is a matter of life or death for many, many wizards and our current way of life. It all depends on your cooperation. I will tell Master Tom that you are in the hospital wing, and Madam Pomfrey will not admit anyone as a visitor. I will also tell him, when he asks, because he will, where Draco is, that he is on an errand with his father, who he ran into at Hogsmeade Village today.

"Madame Pomfrey will return tonight and tomorrow morning to ensure that there are no after effects of the spell you were placed under."

"I just fainted."

"Miss Weasley," Professor Snape chimed in, looking down his nose at her as she continued to stubbornly sit in her chair. "You were placed under the influence of some very dark magic recently, and the spell that touched you last night is an ancient dark curse that is used after the imperious curse. It has the same side effects of being possessed and then put into a very deep sleep. Everyone would very much appreciate if you would just listen to your superiors."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he looked at Snape, and then back at Ginny.

"Food will be delivered to you by the kitchen elves, you are expected to cooperate and take care of yourself. Now." He clapped his hands, smiling. "This will be a fun social experiment as well. Can fire and ice get along well when forced to?" Everyone stared at him, and he nodded. "Things to do, things to do. It is 5:30 now, Miss Weasley, Madame Pomfrey will be back in approximately seven hours. Come along Severus, Poppy. And Master Draco, if you need anything you know how to get ahold of us." The wall sealed itself behind the two, and Ginny turned to stare at Draco, her knuckles white from clenching the arms of her chair for so long.

"This is going to get me killed," she whispered.

"I thought you liked it?" He sneered. Ginny's eyes widened even more and she stood shakily out of her chair, pushing it behind her.

"What did you just say to me?"

"That you liked it." His tone was icy, and his eyes just as dead as Tom's could get. Something hit Ginny, straight in the stomach, and she advanced toward him, angry, hurt.

"So you would believe him, that makes sense, considering you all are 'best mates.'" A sneer to rival Draco's was etched across Ginny's face and she pushed against his shoulder, hard. "You think I _like_ it? You think I get sick pleasure out of what he does to me? You think it makes me come?" She laughed, her eyes burning with fire. Fire and ice.

"You think it makes me want him more? If that's the case you're just as bad as him!" She pushed him again, and this time, with shock registering across his face, he stumbled back a few paces. Pushing the sleeves of her dress up, she brandished the bruises on her upper arms, where you could see the individual fingers, where the crescents from his nails were still dug into her skin. "You think I like that? You think I like the way this makes me feel?"

"Ginny…"

"No, don't try to be my friend, now," she said, unable to stem the flow of tears that was beginning to leak out over the corner of her eyes. "Don't try to win me over with the gifts, with the apologies, with the love. It won't work, I should never have let it work for him." She slapped his outreached hand, the sound echoing around the room, heard even over her shouting. "I thought you were my _friend_, Draco. I _liked_ you. I didn't want to believe that you would ever listen to a blatant like that came out of his mouth. When he told me that last night, while you were too distracted to see me walk past all of you and your snake pit, I hit him, I told him he was wrong, I _laughed_ at him. How humiliating, how humiliating that I was the one that was wrong." She shook her head, her voice quiet for a moment. "And I never thought you would be the kind of person to use it against me." She laughed, bitterly.

"I know you don't like my family. Merlin, I knew that. You made my life hell my first year, I'll never forget how afraid of you I was." She shook her head, hugging herself. "But still, still, I figured that you, of all people would be able to listen to me, or would be able to help me if I ever realized I needed it. I guess I was wrong." She dropped her arms, looking miserably at the wall that had closed up behind the teachers. "I just want to go home," she whispered, realizing how badly she wanted to hug her mother, her brothers, her father, and her cat.

"Hey…" He gently touched her shoulder. Ginny swung around, smacking his shoulder violently.

"Don't you _dare_ touch me. Don't you get it? I don't _trust_ you. You believed the dirty lies that came out of his mouth to get you to stop talking to me."

"Listen to me!"

"Why?! So you can tell me how sorry you are? So you can give me sparkly things so I forget?!" Reaching up, she yanked the chain off of her neck. The links snapped, and she flung the ornament across the room, where it landed, with a soft hiss in the flames.

"Alright! Alright! I didn't ever believe him, I just got… mad."

"Why?" She stared at him. "Why do you have any right to be mad?"

"Because. Because Ginevra, I _like_ you. I like you more than Tom likes you. And I don't like the way he treats you. I stand up for you. I thought you knew that, so when I heard the way you said my name, when I saw how badly you didn't want to be in the room alone with the likes of me, that stung. I'm sorry that my wounded pride got the best of me." Ginny sniffed. "I just want to help you, but you have to want to help yourself."

Ginny turned around, scratching her arms through the sleeves of her dress.

"Can I change?" Draco threw his hands up in the air at her complete change of topic and attitude.

"I'm sure Dumbledore supplied clothes in one of those trunks," he said, gesturing toward the beds. She nodded, walking toward one.

"What are we supposed to be doing here? What requires my complete cooperation?" Her voice had shifted. No longer angry, but no longer there. She'd flipped the switch and was now simply just listening to him, like she had the night before; she'd left her body. Behind her, as she picked through her trunk, she heard Draco sigh.

"What we always talk about, your relationship." Ginny nodded, pulling a flannel set of pajamas out of her trunk. They were red and extremely comfortable looking. Using her wand she transfigured curtains that hung from the ceiling so that she could change.

"So talk."

"Ginny." She came out from behind the curtain, bare footed, the front of pajamas unbuttoned, the plain white of her bra showing clearly. He stopped short, staring at her.

"I want to show you," she said, shakily, "what you think I enjoy. Then you can see if you want to change your mind." She reached up, quietly pulling back her flannel even more. The red contrasted with her pale skin, making the purple bruises, the red welts, and the shallow scratches glare. They were scattered across her stomach, disappearing down to her hips and upper thighs. They went gradually up her chest, curving around her shoulders. Madam Pomfrey hadn't seen them and had only helped to fix the one that had bloomed, purple as violet, across her cheek. "He _imperio'd_ me last night," she whispered, voice hoarse with tears, "because I didn't want to see him, I wanted to celebrate with my house like I deserved to. And because I told him so." She blinked, staring at him.

Ginny watched as he crossed toward her, until they were toe to toe, and as he carefully buttoned her shirt closed, he rested his forehead against hers. Their breath mingled, his was sweet, she thought, like he'd been sucking on peppermints all day. She closed her eyes, letting him look at her, letting him wrap both arms around her waist.

"I never believed him, Gin. I don't, and you only instilled that in me more. I'm so sorry. Let me help you."

Slowly, as a tear slid down the side of her face, she nodded.

About twenty minutes later, the two of them were sitting cross-legged on one of the beds. Draco had finally changed out of the formal looking slacks and shirt into a plain white, soft looking jumper and a pair of black athletic pants. Ginny had probably never seen him so dressed down, and he chuckled at the thought. She was sitting with a teacup cradled in her hands, staring down into the steaming drink. The house elves had brought it up for them, saying that the headmaster had wanted them to get as comfortable as possible. They'd poured too steaming cups and then disappeared, leaving Ginny bemused and probably more than a little stir crazy to get out.

"So this diary…" Ginny laughed, looking at him.

"That isn't a question." He groaned in frustration, looking at her.

"How did you get it?"

"I told you, when our dads got in that fight in Flourish and Botts, I think your father slipped it in with my other books. We didn't notice it because all my books were second hand. I didn't tell my parents about it because I wanted something of my own, and I figured a great story was inside." She frowned a little. "It was empty, and whenever I wrote in it, at first all about Harry, it vanished, sunk into the pages. Eventually… Eventually Tom started writing back to me." She shrugged. "It was pretty innocent, really."

"When was the diary from?"

"Uhm. I think the forties," Ginny said, shrugging. "It never really occurred to me that the date would be of importance."

"What did he say to you?"

"We just talked. He talked to me about Harry, told me that if he didn't look at me then why would he be worth my time." She took a sip of her tea, Draco studied her, scooting closer on the bed. "Basically he told me that he would be my friend even though I didn't have any. He told me that he would always be there for me." They lulled into silence for a minute, and a part of Draco ached to tell her the same thing.

"What happened when the attacks started?" Ginny shook her head, taking another sip of her tea. "Ginny," Draco said again, "what happened when the attacks started?" And then it all seemed to tumble out, like she couldn't stop it.

"He told me that something big was coming to Hogwarts. That something important was going to happen that hadn't happened in a long, long time. He told me that I would have to helped. Told me what had to be done. He put me in a trance." Her eyes looked bewildered, like she didn't mean to be talking, but she was, and Draco sat up a little straighter. "I killed Hagrid's chickens and used their blood to write on the wall. After the basilisk, because that's what lives under the school, attacked Mrs. Norris I tied her up on the light. I didn't remember doing any of it. He told me later." As she finished talking she slapped her hands over her mouth. "I didn't mean to say any of that," she whispered, looking shocked, and looking down at her tea. Draco had just finished taking a large drink, and cocked his head.

"Ask me something."

"What?"

"Ask me something," he repeated.

"Uhm. Did you buy your way onto the Slytherin Quidditch team with those Nimbus 2001's your second year?"

"Partly. I wanted on the team, but they didn't take me seriously enough because I was so young. After they saw me fly and then offer the brooms they agreed to let me on. But my father also supplied whirlpool tubs for the locker rooms." His eyes widened at his own words.

"Do you like me?"

"Yes."

Silence filled the room, and Ginny stared at him, before looking down, her cheeks a light pink, the heat was starting to spread up to her ears when Draco cleared his throat.

"Veritaserum."

"What?  
"Professor Dumbledore must have expected that you wouldn't want to answer the difficult questions."

"That, that!" She didn't finish her curse of the headmaster as her face got red with anger, and tears welled up in her eyes. "What if I don't want you to know all of this? What if it scares me?"

"This isn't your fault," he said. "Whatever you did your first year, it wasn't your fault."

"Then whose fault is it?"

"I think its Tom's," Draco said quietly. He looked at her, watched her look away, and set his tea down on the small table next to the bed. Taking hers from her hands he held them in his, staring at her. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable, Ginny, but I need to know this stuff, it's for your own safety. I want to help you, and so does Dumbledore, that's why he did this. Can I keep asking you questions?"

"Yes," she whispered. "I want you to know."

"What happened your second year?" Ginny swallowed hard, looking away from him.

"After Mrs. Norris, he kept telling me people that needed to die for the cause would die, that they would be wiped out, it was the way it had to be." She took a long, deep breath. "I kept getting sicker, he kept getting worse. I stopped believing him. I tried to flush the diary down the toilet. Then Harry found it. He figured out what was going on, to some extent. But I got the diary back before he could do anything, and I begged Tom to stop. After Hermione was paralyzed…" she shuddered, "he said he would as long as I could help him. So I did. I was so weak, Draco, I was physically ill. He was sucking the life out of me… So to keep me from… from dying which I believe was his ultimate goal originally, he had me lure in a…" she started to cry here, her voice breaking up, and without being able to help it, Draco dragged her into his arms.

She stayed like that for a long moment, crying into his white jumper, her fingers curling around the material on his shoulder, clinging to him. Bewildered, he kept one arm wrapped around her and stroked her hair with his other hand, trying to calm her down.

"A child," she whispered. "A boy younger than me that lived in Hogsmeade. I snuck out of the castle," she choked again. "I snuck out of the castle and down to Hogsmeade, I don't remember any of this, but he showed me later, with that damn book. He showed me get a little boy out of bed and lead him to the Shrieking Shack, I had the diary with me the whole time. He made me make the little boy write something in the diary, I still don't remember what he wrote… But all of the sudden Tom just… appeared. It was like the little boy had written his soul into the diary with just a few words and I felt so much better." She paused, Draco could feel her swallowing against his chest, he had stilled, captivated by this story. "I kept telling the boy to write, to keep writing, to never stop, and he just did, and with every word, the same word, he got sicker, he started crying, he got weak, and Tom… Tom got stronger.

"Oh god," she whispered. "I helped him kill that little boy, Draco. And then I helped him do it again. Today."

"What do you mean you helped him do it again?"

"I don't remember all of it." She swallowed. "He hasn't had a chance to tell me. But he got this ring from a man from Bulgaria today." She blinked. "No. Not from a man from Bulgaria. From your father. He had your dad's cane." She sat up, staring at Draco. "He gave him a ring, and Tom said he had something important to do with it, that I needed to bring a local up to the Shrieking Shack. I said I didn't want to. I said no. So he put me in that spell again, told me that I had to… That's when you found me. After I had done what he told me to, I suppose. That's why I got so upset, that's why I got sick." She was shaking in his arms.

"What have I done?"

"You haven't done anything," he whispered, his lips pressed against her violent red hair. "You haven't done anything." Rocking her back and forth while she cried he continued to make gentle, soothing sounds.

"I don't like it, you know."

"I know," he said.

"I didn't know what to do the first time he hit me. We were getting along so well at first. He loved me, he said. He was making up for all the things he had made me do, he said. He said he just wanted to be with me, and he wanted to help Harry. That's why he was here. But it hurt so badly. It was just a sharp slap across the face. I didn't know how to hide it then either." She laughed quietly. "That's where I adopted the broom closet story."

"Help Harry?"

"Yeah. He said Voldemort was going to come back, and Tom wanted to help… Help Harry with it all." She'd finally stopped crying, and it relieved Draco. Still stroking her hair he let her sit silently against him, curled up and safe.

"I don't want him to touch you again." Ginny laughed.

"He said I can't even look at you again. When he finds out about this, I'll probably be killed. If he knew how I felt…" She shook her head. "That's why I said the things I did."

"He isn't going to find out about it, you heard Dumbledore. He won't." She swallowed hard. "I won't let him touch you again, Ginny. I refuse. He will not touch you." Ginny leaned back in his arms, looking up at him. Her face was tearstained, her eyes were red. He pushed his hair back out of her face, wiping away her tears with his thumbs and gave her a weak smile.

"Thank you," she whispered. Leaning down, he paused, searching her face for something. Giving something that resembled a nervous smile he leaned down, his lips just touching hers.


	8. Chapter 8

_"This will only hurt a little, Gin."_

_ "No, please. Please."_

_ "Now, Ginny…" _

_ Tom's fingers, cold as ice, grazed her cheek, smearing dirt and tears along her pale skin. She could feel her chapped lips crack as she grimaced at his touch, and the coppery taste and scent of blood filled her mouth and nose. _

_ "You said you were willing to do anything for me. Have you forgotten that? Do I need to remind you?" Ginny Weasley shivered violently, crossing her arms over her small body. The two were standing in the freezing rain, and it was hitting her skin like needles. Her thin white shirt was soaked through, you could honestly count the goosebumps on her skin through the fabric. She hadn't had a lot of warning that this rendezvous would be coming; she had just woken from a strange dream and a pull around her navel that told her to get up and _move._ Following her own gut had her standing in the muddy streets of Hogsmeade, wearing nothing but a thin white shirt that fell to her knees. Her toes were blue._

_ "No. No, I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me."_

_ The words tumbled from her mouth in a rush behind chattering jaws and teeth. She could almost see them fall flat to the ground, coating themselves in mud at their uselessness in pleas. Ginny squeezed her upper arms tighter, leaving nail prints in her white flesh._

_ "This is the only way that I can be with you next year, and you want me to be with you, don't you?" Before her, Tom's image suddenly shook, went out of focus before strengthening again, and her knees began to knock together, her eyelids droop. His calm tone whispered through her brain, caressing all the hurt he had caused her recently, dulling her mind and making her forget._

_ "Y-yes, I want to be with you," she said through chattering teeth. "It's all I want."_

_ "Good." The briefest of smiles flashed across his lips before he pointed at the child at Ginny's feet. He was only 5 or 6, Ginny thought, and he probably stared up at the school with huge eyes just waiting to be old enough, to be ready; just like she had. She sighed._

_ "I can't do this. I don't want to do this. Its cold. I'm scared. You said no one else was going to get hurt, Tom." Suddenly, pain hit her abdomen and she began to scream._

"Ginny! Ginevra! Wake up! Shite! Why aren't you waking up?"

Her eyes flew open and the girl shot bolt upright in bed. The circular room that Dumbledore had left them in was cast in a dim glow, and around her sat several very concerned looking eyes. As she blinked, they came more into focus, and she formed a weak, unsure smile.

"Sorry, nightmare," she whispered, sheepishly. Her voice cracked in her raw throat, and she gulped, attempting to swallow down the pain.

"Clearly," Professor Snape said, drily form his corner, staring at her in disdain. He'd probably woken up thinking she was dying, this was the last place that he wanted to be so early in the morning. Madam Pomfrey, however, bustled over to her, going about checking her temperature, blotting the sweat from her forehead and waving her wand over her skull. All the while clucking like a mother hen.

"It doesn't appear that she has been possessed, headmaster. Possibly just the aftereffects of that dreadful curse."

"Yes, quite possibly the case, Poppy." The headmaster's eyes twinkled as he looked at her. The fleeting thought that he looked quite silly in his periwinkle blue sleeping gown and cap raced across Ginny's rattled brain. "I think I'll just summon up some tea for the two of them, try and calm their nerves. Would you care to share your dream, dear? You look quite shaken."

Ginny's eyes met with Draco's and she shook her head slightly, feeling her brain rattle around in her skull. Dumbledore nodded.

"So I was woken up at this god-awful hour for nothing but some tea."

"It was your student that summoned you, Professor," Dumbledore said, cheerily, waving his wand to conjure a silver tea set. "I'm sure if you had been in Master Malfoy's shoes you would have done the same thing if a screaming, red-headed girl could not be aroused." Ginny looked at Draco, her eyes wide as Snape's body went oddly rigid. "And perhaps a sleeping potion would help them get a restful sleep. Do you have one, Severus?" The potions master nodded curtly, his lip curling, and swept out of the room.

"How long was I screaming?"

"Ten minutes," Draco said, rubbing his tired looking eyes. "But you started talking as soon as you laid down, and kicking. Lots of kicking. I wasn't worried until you started screaming. I thought you'd wake the entire castle." Ginny swallowed, looking down at her shaking hands.

"I think," Dumbledore said, beginning to pass out the tea, "that what this entire school needs is another break. Everyone seems to be on edge, it must be NEWTS and OWLS that are coming up. Perhaps an unexpected trip to Hogsmeade will do the trick. Yes, I will have the Heads of Houses put up a sign in the common rooms and alert Mr. Filch that Hogsmeade will be open to the students tomorrow between the hours of nine and seven thirty, again." He smiled. "Some fresh air may just do you well, Miss Weasley, and then after, Master Malfoy, I expect you in my office to recount what you have learned."

"Here." Snape had materialized on the other side of the wall and strode to Ginny's side, holding out a clear vial. "Only a few drops, Miss Weasley. I don't want you to sleep too late. But this will help you sleep dreamlessly so you don't wake me up again. You as well, Master Malfoy," Snape said as Ginny tipped the vial into her teacup and passed it onto the boy perched on her bed.

"Well!" Dumbledore clapped his hands, standing up. "It is probably best if we leave these two alone to get some sleep. Miss Weasley looks quite worn. I'll have a house elf bring you breakfast in the morning, though I do expect you both to enjoy some fresh air." Ginny nodded, staring down into her tea cup.

"Thank you, professor."

Ginny's head was spinning. She hadn't had that particular nightmare in years. In fact, the girl hadn't had to relive her first year at Hogwarts since she was told about it by Tom. And he promised she would never have to know about it again, he said she wouldn't have those nightmares as long as she was a good girlfriend. What had she done wrong? Was it because she had argued with him? He'd never _Imperio'd _her either before last night. She was still chewing on her lip, letting her mind turn the questions over and over when gentle fingers lifted her chin.

"You should drink that." She smiled sheepishly, shrugging.

"What if it doesn't work? Then I'm just drinking a socially questionable potion and I'm still being terrorized by my boyfriend." She watched Draco's eyes darken and looked back down, quickly avoiding his gaze.

"It will. Professor Snape is the potions master after all," he murmured, moving down to sit beside her on the bed. After their kiss it had become slightly awkward. Ginny didn't feel comfortable to the idea of _cheating_ even if Tom was a lying, scheming jerk. They hovered over unsaid words, stumbled over body language as arms, legs and hands brushed. As the bed adjusted to his settling weight, her cheeks flamed red. She was resting between his legs, her back leaning against his chest; she could feel the rise and fall of his breathing. If Tom saw this…

"You didn't drink yours," she said, a slight accusing tone to her voice. His chest rumbled with laughter.

"I'll drink it after you drink yours. Fair is fair."

Begrudgingly, Ginny swirled the tea around in her glass and then took a sip…

"How long were you going to let him get away with this?" A while later, half asleep and with heavy eyelids, Ginny lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, goose bumps covering her skin from Draco gently running his fingers across her stomach. Her shirt had been unbuttoned and lay open on either side of her; he was tracing each scar, each bruise, each welt alternating between using fingers and lips. They'd tried sleeping, he had even gotten into his own bed, but when her screaming started up he'd shaken her awake looking paler than usual. Now they lay staring at each other, bodies humming from the unfulfilled need to touch.

"Listen, Draco," Ginny began, her voice coming out in a hesitant shudder as his finger dipped lower on her stomach, "everyone likes Tom. And for the most part, Tom likes everyone. It is just that… When Tom really likes someone he can get aggressive and possessive." The girl paused, closing her eyes and drawing in a deeper breath as his fingers drew light circles across her skin. "And I just thought… If Tom didn't like me, then who would?"

"What happened to your family and scarhead?" She laughed, turning to look at him, his chin resting on his fisted hand, nose just away from touching her side. Grabbing the sides of her shirt she moved to start buttoning them up when he stilled her wrist.

"Don't."

"Don't? No, I don't want you looking at these ugly scars anymore," she said, sounding angry. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. "He wanted to make sure no one would, you know, if they knew he touched me, then who else would? If he made me ugly, then who would love me?"

"You're beautiful."

Ginny stilled her hands, turning to look at him.

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not." Still holding her wrist he lifted it to his lips, gently brushing them across her skin. Her pulse fluttered at the touch.

"Oh," she whispered, their bodies gravitating toward each other, one of her hands moving up to entwine in his white blond, baby soft hair. He flashed her a crooked grin that closely resembled his usual smirk before kissing her again.

"I still don't think its fair that he can drug me twice and get away with it just because he is the headmaster," Ginny growled, glowering at Draco across the table as he laughed.

"At least I didn't give you any real difficult questions that you had to answer." Ginny's face flamed red as she choked on her butterbeer.

"What in Merlin's name could you have asked me, Draco Malfoy? Don't you think the other questions were difficult? I told you essentially everything that I hate about myself last night!"

"On a whole different level," he said, waving his hand to void her comment. "Oh, I could have thought of a thing or two," he said then, shrugging, smirking devilishly at her. He looked delight in the way her flush extended down into the white blouse. After last night he could easily imagine how far down the red blush disappeared. He only laughed when she failed to hold his gaze, looking down into her drink with a nervous laugh.

"Please," she said, brushing a lock of red hair out of her eyes. "Like I would have answered them if I wasn't under the influence of that silly potion, anyway."

"You're a Gryffindor, isn't that a sense of nobility and honor or some rubbish like that? You'd have to answer them, wouldn't you, to be loyal to your beloved house?" He leaned across the table. "I must say, I am very interested to know what you would have liked to do with me last night in that room all alone."

"Draco!" Her scandalized tone had several people in the pub turn around to stare at the young couple.

He had dragged her down to the Hog's Head for the second time that weekend, promising that he'd walk her around after some of the morning rush had died down. She had been too afraid to even leave the castle just in case Tom had been out and about, but so far they hadn't seen hide nor hair of his dark brown head. And slowly throughout the day Draco had watched Ginny start to relax. At one point while they were walking her hand had even sought his. Sitting across the table from her now was probably one of the hardest thing next to sleeping next to her without snogging her senseless.

"What?" He hissed as the barkeep and a remarkably old hag in the far corner turned back to nursing their drinks on a Sunday afternoon after shooting glares at the two. "I know you're not all innocent, Ginevra Weasley. And I would have been honest with you if you had asked me in return. Of course, if I had started talking about it then I couldn't promise that I wouldn't let my words become actions." Her blush blotched across her skin again, and she took a quick swig of her butterbeer.

"So sure of yourself, are you, Malfoy?"

"Back to using surnames now? Is this a competition, Ginny? I'd love to see who'd win. I can assure you, the rumors of my legendary skill are true."

"Ugh, _please _don't tell me it was _you_ that came up with the "Slytherin" to your "Chamber of Secrets" line! That one haunted me even in my sleep."

"So you're saying you dreamt about me, Ginny? I'm flattered, honestly, I am. Naturally, I'm sure I was naked most of the time. So, tell me, is my body very impressive?" His eyes glittered with amusement.

Draco was fairly sure he had never wanted to tease someone out of their clothes as much as he did to Ginny now. She looked positively fit in her navy skirt and blouse. A part of him was threatening to take control over his actions and his thoughts, and he could see himself dragging her off to some dark room in this ratty old place to drive her as crazy as she was making him. She squirmed under his intense stare, and he smirked.

"Does your silence mean that it is too impressive for words, then?"

"Ugh, you… you… you're incorrigible!" She spluttered, throwing herself back in her chair in exasperation, the hints of a smile touching the corners of her lips.

"Impressive vocabulary, Ginny, I really didn't know you were capable of such words." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Are you calling me unintelligent, Malfoy?"

"Again with the surnames," he said taking another drink of his butterbeer while desperately wishing for some of his father's Ogden's Finest Firewhiskey and rolling his eyes.

"Does your nonanswer mean yes?"

"Mm, so Slytherin of you," he said, eyes flashing with amusement, though his voice was low, and her cheeks went blazing again. "That shade of pink looks delightful on you. I'd like to see what the rest of your body looks like."

"We're in_ public_," she hissed, kicking him under the table.

"No one can even hear us," he said. "I could make it so no one can see us, either." He winked at her, and she glared at him. "What? You know you like the idea as much as I do." He could see her starting to squirm in her seat, and he could see himself reaching across the table and pulling her into a senseless kiss in his mind's eye. "Come on," he said suddenly, standing up to take her hand, "let's get out of here before I do something in public that you'll disapprove of." Dropping several gold and silver pieces on the table, he linked his fingers through hers, pulling her behind him out of the pub.

"Where are we going?" She asked, giggling, bouncing along behind him.

"Somewhere where you won't care if someone sees me snogging you," he said before he could filter it around his carefully refined brain. The words registered in his mind before, he believed, they really registered in Ginny's. Mentally, he halted, chewing over those words, and the faintest hint of pink reached the shells of his ears. It was not often that words left a Malfoy mouth unchecked, especially Draco's. His father had trained him to be calculated, cold, and closed off; those were three traits that Ginny made him forget to be.

"So what exactly do you want to do to me, Mr. Malfoy?" Ginny asked, stopping him in the middle of the street, yanking his arm so that he was facing her and so that they were standing chest to chest. The road was deserted save for the stragglers going in and out of the pub they'd just left, and they were completely fine with that.

"Don't call me that, I'm not my father, yet." He wrinkled his nose, moving to run his hands through her long red hair.

"That isn't an answer, Draco," she purred, and his heart thudded solidly in his chest.

"You're a minx," he whispered before dragging her mouth up to his.

They had maybe been standing in the street, lost in each other, for ten minutes when the spell hit Ginny square in the back, the jinx still ringing in her ears. _STUPEFY!_

"I thought you were trapped in the hospital wing, you miserable witch!? And I thought I told you to stay away from my girlfriend." Ginny was dazed, on her back, barely able to comprehend what was going on above her. "Did you curse her into going out here with you? Is that what you did? Practiced some of your father's dark magic? Imperio her, maybe?"

"Sod off, Tom." Draco's voice reached Ginny's ears in a low, angry growl. She saw him shift so he was standing in front of her, and his wand was drawn. Putting a hand to her head, Ginny started stand.

"Telling me to sod off when I'm with my own girlfriend? Come here, Ginny. Come here!" He was shouting, now, and she was sure that people were going to start poking their heads out of doors to watch. Pushing herself up off of the ground, she put her hand on Draco's shoulder.

"Let me handle this," she whispered, giving him a small smile, hoping she looked brave. That is what she was supposed to be, according to her house. Normally, normally she felt like she was brave, normally she would have been able to stand up straight and tell him like it was. But what was normal anymore, anyway? She had just been snogging _Draco Malfoy_ in the bloody street for Merlin's sake. His eyes slid over hers, questioning, but she walked away, leaving him behind her.

"Tom," she said, evenly, walking toward him.

"I knew you wouldn't actually leave me," he said, looking relieved as he grabbed her hand. "We'll go straight to Dumbledore, don't worry." He leaned down to press a chaste kiss to her unresponding lips.

"Tom," she said again, pulling away from his enveloping arms. "Tom, Draco didn't curse me, and he didn't threaten to get me to kiss him, either." Tom's eyes steeled over, and he stared at her, arms crossed. "I can't see you anymore, Tom."

"What are you saying?" He hissed, grabbing her wrist. She winced.

"Let go of me." She looked from her wrist, up his arm to his eyes, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice and off of her face. "Let go of me, Tom. I can't see you anymore. We're over."

"Over?" He asked quietly, voice low and dangerous. "Think about what you are saying. Over, Ginevra?" His grip tightened around her wrist, and she gritted her teeth. "Are you seriously going to leave me?"

"Let go of my wrist, Tom," she said finally. Her voice was beginning to waver, but when Tom's eyes flicked up to look over her shoulder, she felt a hand rest on her hip and she gathered strength.

"You heard the lady," Draco said lowly behind her, and slowly Tom released Ginny's wrist. She pulled her hand away and took a step to the side, grabbing Draco's.

"Come on, Draco, let's go," she whispered, tugging.

"Hold on." He was still staring at Tom and hadn't budged from his position. "I don't want to see you near her again," he said, moving closer.

"Draco! Let's go," Ginny said, watching nervously as Tom's hand tightened into a fist around his wand. "Come on."

"It isn't like I'd want to be affiliated with that disgusting whore anyway," Tom sneered, lifting his lip in the perfect impersonation of Draco.

"It's more than that," Draco said. "Everyone is going to know who to really trust and I promise it isn't going to be you. We've got three weeks left, and I expect you to keep your head down and keep your miserable existence to yourself. Do you understand me?"

"Oh, Draco," Tom said, his eyes taking on that odd red sheen again, "I don't think you understand."

"Draco!" Ginny tugged on his hand again. "Let's _go_. Sod off, Tom," she added, as she finally tugged Draco's hand hard enough that he moved toward her, circling an arm around her protectively. "Everyone knows a real man doesn't hit women, so you aren't even fooling anyone."

The two walked away, leaving Tom glaring at where they had just been standing, and Ginny's brain had thrown itself into overdrive. This could end very, very badly. After they'd gotten far enough away she turned to stare at Draco, emotions playing across her eyes.

"He's going to kill me," she whispered. "He isn't going to let me go this easily. He isn't. He isn't. He isn't." Her breathing became erratic, and her chest rose and fell with her rapid near hyperventilation. Draco stared at her, bewildered. "I have to go back. I have to apologize. Oh my god." Clawing her hands through her hair, she looked around wildly. "What did I just do? What did I just do?" She started to move back toward Tom, looking lost.

"Ginny!" She whirled around, turning to stare at him. He had his hands up, like he was about to grab her arm but had thought better of it. "Don't. Stop. Listen to yourself." Carefully, he took her face in his hands, cupping her cheeks and wiping the tears from her cheeks that had leaked out of the corners of her eyes. He smeared the black eyeliner that had tracked down her face. "Listen to yourself. I won't let anything happen to you, Ginny. Dumbledore won't. Potter won't. Your family won't."

"He'll hurt all of you," she said staring up at him and shaking. "You don't even understand. You don't know what he his capable of. You need to let me go back there, I need to make this right so he doesn't hurt you. I can't let that happen."

"I can't let you go back there, Ginny," he said, quietly, wiping away yet another tear and slowly pulling her toward him, taking a step to meet her halfway. "You know he isn't good for you, you need to stick by that decision. People that love you, that really love you, will protect you."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not," he whispered, voice husky as he pushed his lips against hers.


	9. Chapter 9

**[AN: this is getting a bit harder to write. i hope you all are enjoying-the "happy times" are over for a bit, unfortunately... Please feel free to comment, review, etc. (: I appreciate everything.]**

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! Would you two just make up already?" Ginny exclaimed, looing between her brother and his best friend, her shout had disturbed the overall sleepiness of the library, and Madame Prince with her beady eyes glared at Ginny from the desk. "Sorry!" She stage whispered, grimacing down into her textbook before looking back up to her brother and Harry. "Seriously, though, you guys are friends, and whatever it was that you were fighting about just isn't worth it, and NO!" She held up her hands, growling in frustration and running her fingers through her frizzy hair. "I really, _really_ do not want to know what you two _girls_ were bickering about, so just kiss and make up and make my life easier."

She cut her eyes over at Hermione who was looking smugly down at her book. "And I don't know why you haven't said anything to them before this," she added, slamming her book shut, getting another glare from the librarian. "I mean, I know I haven't been around to keep you three in check, but…"

"And thank Merlin you are now, Ginny," Hermione said, rolling her eyes as she flipped another page in the book. "Because now we get to hang out with your oh-so lovely Slytherin friends." She shot Pansy Parkinson, who, until this point, had been sitting quietly at the end of the table, scribbling notes onto a piece of scrap parchment, a nasty look. Even after Ginny and Tom's split, Pansy had stayed fiercely loyal saying that Ginny was as good as one of their own, now she was studying for her N.E.W.T.S while Ginny finished up on of her few finals for her sixth year. Slowly, Pansy looked up, shooting Hermione a scathing glance.

"I think I'm going to go, Gin," she said, standing up and sweeping her books into her patent dragon leather bag. "I told Draco that I would meet him and Blaise for dinner, something about food being flooed in from Diagon Alley, we're just absolutely sick of this school food, you know." Ginny gave her friend a sympathetic smile. "You're welcome to come, of course," Pansy said, talking over Hermione's mimic. "I can understand how this company can get… dull." She sniffed.

"Thanks Pansy, maybe I'll catch up with you guys later. Good luck on your Defense exam tonight, you'll be wonderful." Leaning across the table, she kissed Pansy's cheeks before the girl flounced up and walked out the door, waving over her shoulder.

"You always preach equality and acceptance and then you go and do that." Ginny rolled her eyes, forcefully turning the page in her library book, the slightest of tears appearing in the corner near the spine.

"Oh, please, Ginny, she's a horror. A complete toerag!" Hermione exclaimed, staring up at the girl. "You never used to like her until you started dating Tom."

"You all had no problem with Tom when we were dating. You had no problem with my friends, then. What's changed?" She muttered, shaking her head.

"You have no reason to be associated with Slytherins anymore," Harry growled, finally cutting into the conversation. Ginny shook her head, hair flying out behind her.

"Ridiculous. All of you." Leaning down, she fished her bag up off of the floor. "Just a week, just a week, just a week," she quietly chanted, shoving her text books into her bag until she was sure that the seams would burst. Grabbing a handful of her broken and nubby quills and a vial of color changing ink, she shoved them into an outer pocket of the bag and slung it over her shoulder.

"Ginny?" Ron asked, looking tentatively at his sister.

"If you all decide to be civil, I'll be dining with those blasted Slytherins." Adjusting the strap on her shoulder she turned around, her nose in the air. "Good luck on your N.E.W.T.S," she snapped before the heavy door to the library shut behind her.

With a heavy sigh, she leaned back against it for a moment, weighing her options. She really couldn't go eat lunch with Blaise and Draco and Pansy, because they were sure to eat in the Slytherin common room and it was just an unspoken rule that she wasn't allowed in here. It was definitely off-limits in case Tom was lurking about. Deciding to go up to the common room and change into something more comfortable than her school skirt and shirt she headed in that direction, pulling out her most recent muggle book she'd borrowed from a friend, flipping through the pages until she found where she left off.

_'"We're going to rectify this situation right now."_

_"What do you mean? What situation?"_

_"Your situation, Ana, I'm going to make love to you, now."'_

Ginny's eyes flew up, her cheeks flaming red. She had heard that this book got… well… uncomfortably steamy, but she didn't think that it would be inappropriate to take out of the tub. Nibbling on her lower lip, she looked around. At least no one here would know what Fifty Shades of Greywas, anyway. Blessed muggle books.

Her steps slowed as she turned the page.

_"I cry as I feel a weird pinching sensation deep inside me as he rips through my-."_

_Holy mother of Merlin. What am I reading?!_

Slamming the book shut, and thoroughly embarrassed, Ginny pushed it back down into her book bag, and was fighting with making it fit when she walked into someone's solid body.

"Merlin! I am so sorry," she said, taking a step back, her face glowing hot. "I just wasn't paying attention and, oh." The words that had been rushing to get out moments ago stopped abruptly. "Its you." Feeling her confidence slowly drain, she took a step back from Tom and turned to walk around him, her tone becoming icy and clipped. "Excuse me."

"And where do you think you're going?" She watched, like it was in slow motion, as he reached out and grabbed her arm, long, white fingers curling around her wrist.

"None of your business. Let go of me, Tom, or I'll scream."

"That threat didn't work before, Gin, love, and I don't think it'll work now." Yanking her toward him he looked down at her. "We're very out in the open here, why don't we fix that?"

"Let me go," she said again, evenly, yanking backwards and freeing her wrist at the expense of her pale skin. Now she was going to have to go back to wearing long sleeved shirts again, that was going to bruise. Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave him a once over before turning to walk away. "I'll never get back together with you, Tom, not if your life depended on it."

"Wanna bet?" She let out a yelp as his fingers closed around her upper arm in a powerful vice grip, yanking her backwards and spinning her to face him.

Ginny swallowed, narrowing her eyes as she watched him. He was definitely angry, with that slight red gleam in his irises and his nostrils flared. She had known he hadn't taken the breakup well, Pansy had spent countless hours whispering to her about it in the library- the temper tantrums he threw, the way he would get too ill to leave his bed, and his surly moods. She'd been avoiding the dungeons unless she could travel in a pack. This was exactly why, stuck alone with Tom was a tricky situation.

"Let go of me," she said, attempting to keep her voice calm and her anger just simmering below the surface. "I know you're mad at me, but we just aren't right for each other and I'm not going to help you anymore." Gently, she reached with her other hand to try and pry his fingers from her arm, giving him a grimace of a smile. "Pansy is waiting for me in the Great Hall, so you may as well let go of me so no one comes looking."

The corners of Tom's lips curled up in a cruel smile, with his free hand he grabbed the base of her neck, squeezing gently until she winced. "How about I walk you down there? We can make a pit stop on the way and talk, I'm sure she won't miss you too much."

"They're expecting me any minute," Ginny whispered, starting to feel the panic she was so used to when she was with him tighten in her throat. Her lie was thin, and she knew he could see right through it. Wincing again as he gripped her neck, he used his hold to turn her around, steering her toward the first floor. "Seriously, Tom, its awfully sweet of you to take me down to the Great Hall, but I can do it myself." She let out a yelp as he all but shoved her down the first flight of stairs, causing her to trip over her feet. The hallways were terribly empty.

"Shut up," he muttered, letting her collect herself at the bottom of the staircase and directing her to the right. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, love. Unfortunately for you, my life does depend on you being with me, and I am not going to be taking no for an answer. I don't need that damn diary anymore, but I do need you." His eyes flashed as he watched her. "Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way, its up to you."

Ginny stared at him, at a loss for words, and more angry than scared now.

"You're an idiot," she said, voice shrill, "I already told you I'm not going to go out with you again, stop being so melodramatic about it, and _leave me alone._"

"The hard way, then. I have already imperio'd you once, Gin, don't make me do it again."

"You wouldn't." He rose his eyebrows infinitesimally and her breath caught in her throat. As he reached into his pocket for his wand she opened her mouth wide to scream.

"HE-"

"_Imperio_," he whispered.

It was like falling into a pool of warm water. It was the most calming thing she had ever experienced, not having to think or speak, just falling and resting. It was so strong this time that it was barely even worth the fight that some small part of her wanted to put up. She rather felt like someone had pushed a cloth over her mouth and she just wanted to sleep.

"_Good_."

That was Tom's voice, she was vaguely aware, reaching in to gently stroke her unconscious mind. _"See, it is so much easier when you don't struggle or fight me, Gin love. Now. I need you to write something for me._"

Why was he talking? He didn't expect her to respond, did he? She couldn't even form words in her head let alone actually say them. Herself, her consciousness, was still beating at the fog, attempting to clear out some part of her brain to get her to stop, to get her to stop listening, but it wasn't working. It was just too calming, being in a place where you didn't have to think. She was actually starting to like floating along this river, half awake and half asleep. Revolving on the spot, movements stiff and robotic, she turned to face a blank expanse of wall. It was a very familiar wall, and the conscious part of Ginny Weasley's stomach clenched, but she wasn't yet sure why.

_"Remember this wall, love? You've done something for me here once before, and we're going to do it again. Ready now? Lift up your arm, your beautifully pale arm. I love when you don't wear long sleeves, why did you ever start doing that?" _His voice was gentle, a caress across her mind, but commanding. Before her unseeing eyes, Ginny lifted her left arm, holding it before her. _"Good, now, use your wand… That's it, go ahead and cut. I'll tell you when to stop. Start at the wrist, there's a good girl._" Her wand, clenched in her fist, trembled slightly as she rested the tip on her wrist. Ginny did not wince as she dragged it backwards, pulling it slowly along the skin, which split open like it was being unzipped. _"Keep going. All the way to your elbow. Good girl."_ Again, Ginny's consciousness was screaming, beating at the walls of her brain, waving away the fog, but to no avail.

_"I gave you the privilege of chicken blood before. But traitors don't get such luxury. Now. Write."_

Stowing her wand in her pocket, Ginny dipped her middle and fore finger into the split on her arm, unable to feel the stinging pain, or the warm stream of blood that flowed from her veins to the floor. Silently, she reached up around Tom, pulling her fingers down the wall in jerky, clumsy motions.

"C" she would pause, twitching as something inside of her made her fight, and her eyes blinked.

_"No!"_ Tom's voice snarled, slamming its way into her head, clamping down harder, pushing deeper. She convulsed. A great black cloud swept across Ginny's brain, and she winced as he infiltrated, searching for the last part of her that was awake. _"I wasn't going to be mean, Ginevra, but you're forcing my hand. I know you're thinking about him down here. He won't come and save you. He doesn't even know where you are. You were always so stupid, not telling anyone where you were going. An easy target…"_ Like a hand sifting through sand, she could feel him scoop up her few memories of Draco Malfoy, letting them run through his fingers. _"I can make you forget him, you know, so even as you die, you won't have a happy memory left. But I think I'll save that for later, see how you behave."_ She felt his smirk in her brain, could see it in her mind's eye, and she shuddered. _"Finish writing._"

"What's ruffled your feathers?" Pansy asked cheerily as she dropped her designer bag onto the floor next to the chair reserved for her and leaned over to kiss her boyfriend on the cheek. Draco rolled his eyes, nostrils flared as he looked at Pansy. "What? You're so obvious when you're around us, not at all Mister Dark and Mysterious like the rest of the school thinks you are." She continued to smile cheekily at him despite his sour mood.

"He got a letter from his father," Blaise said, pulling Pansy into his lap and wrapping both arms around her slim waist, grinning up at her. "A howler no less, told Draco here to stop meddling in things that didn't concern him. You know how he gets when his father doesn't approve of his actions. You'd think someone stole his broomstick"

"Shut up, Blaise," Draco muttered, waving his wand over the still glowing ashes of the howler. "It wasn't even a proper howler, he didn't yell nearly enough."

"What were you meddling in?" Pansy asked, leaning forward to remove one of the silver lids that covered the food. It smelled delicious and her stomach growled expectantly.

"I owled Father about Quandary," Draco said, shrugging. "Told him I didn't understand why he was giving away family heirlooms to such an unworthy slug and that I wished to disinvite him from the family home as of now. Told him I wanted to meet with him at Hogsmeade before the week was up to let him know why and that it wasn't entirely safe to put in a letter in case it was intercepted."

"Oh, Draco." Pansy shook her head, beginning to serve the meal onto each silver plate as Blaise reached around her to pour the pumpkin juice with a wave of his wand. "He's a blighter, alright, a toerag, even, but you know that there are better ways to handle that, especially when it comes to Lucius Malfoy."

"I just expected him to listen to me," Draco said, shrugging. "Mother would."

"So why don't you write to her?"

"Can't. He reads all of her mail first. Makes sure there aren't any curses or some shite like that."

"So what exactly did he say?" Pansy asked, watching as Draco swept the last of the ashes off of the dark polished table. "It couldn't have been too bad, nothing is broken down here."

"Ha-ha," Draco laughed, sarcastically. "I told you. He, and I quote, 'advised me to stop meddling in affairs that had no real concern for me.' Unquote. His language got a bit colorful in the end, but that's too be expected with a howler."

There was a pause as Pansy wiggled out of Blaise's lap to sit in the chair next to him, curling her high heeled boots under her legs and picking up her goblet. The lake that surrounded the private prefect's room in the dungeons bubbled quietly as they all started their meal, the quiet strains of Poison Love could be heard through the small radio Blaise had turned on when they had walked in.

"On a happier note, Ginny told that Granger bint off today." Blaise laughed appreciatively at his girlfriend's huffy tone. "I heard her as I was leaving the library. That girl is insufferable, I am _trying_ to like her for Gin's sake, but it just isn't working."

"Were you studying with her, then?"

"Well, _I _was studying, Ginny was doodling Mrs. Ginny Malfoy all over her parchment and library books, kidding!" She laughed when Draco started to cough and sputter, spraying pumpkin juice all over his meal and the table in front of him. She giggled, waving her wand to clean him up as she continued. "Scarhead and Ronald were there, too, and Ginny got them to stop fighting, thank Merlin, those two are worse than first years. Regardless, I invited her for dinner, I figured she would be here by now."

Draco shrugged. "She's been eating up in Gryffindor Tower, lately. I think she's afraid to walk alone too often. She probably stuck around with the three of them."

"Mmm, I hope so, I did see Tom walking toward the library when I came down here. He didn't say anything to me, though. Why didn't you offer to pick her up from the library, Draco?"

"That's because you picked Draco over him, love," Blaise said, lazily, as he twirled his pasta around his fork. "Actually, most of Slytherin picked Draco over him. What did you say to get them to chose so wisely, mate?"

"Ah, someone spread a rumor that said Tom wanted Slytherin to lose the house cup or something petty like that. You wouldn't believe how shallow these new kids are. And I didn't pick her up because the less of me her brother sees the better off we both are." He shrugged, waving his hand. "I can ask Ginny later tonight what she ended up doing that she decided was important enough to blow you off, Pansy, she told me that she was going to be in the Room of Requirement tonight to try and get some sleep and that I could join unless I was too stressed about my exams."

"I'm sure you'll be getting a lot of sleeping done, mate," Blaise snickered. "How long has it been since you've been alone with her for more than two seconds? Three weeks?"

"We're just friends, Blaise."

"Friends that snog, and would probably have a great shag," Blaise muttered. "Tom always said-"

"Everything Tom said was shite, and you know it," Draco pointed his spoon at his friend, eyes narrowing. "He only ever said anything to piss of Ginny or to ruin her name."

"I know, I know," Blaise said, putting his hands up. "But there is probably a bit of truth behind all of his lies, I mean think about it."

"Be nice," Pansy chided quietly, pushing her chair back. "Come on, we'll have the house elves send the rest of it up to the kitchens for later. I heard that they were going to serve kidney pie tonight, and if we go now we can make sure that Ginny is with her friends."

"You were just griping that you were sick of the school's kidney pie," Blaise muttered, looking longingly at their meal imported all the way from Italy.

"I'm more worried about my friend than about my stomach."

"I'm sure she's fine," Draco said, searching Pansy's eyes. "Why would you think she wasn't?"

"I… I don't know." She sat back down in her chair, closing her eyes for a minute. "You just didn't see him when I walked down here, Draco, he was furious. I'm not sure why, and I'm not sure what happened, but he looked. Well, he looked _different_. His eyes were practically glowing, Draco. And if something happened to her because I left her up in that library with those bumbling idiots, honestly, how they've gotten through all of the trouble these past 7 years will always elude me."

"Alright, come on, if just to make you feel better, we'll go look," Blaise spoke up. "I mean, if the livelihood of Ginny Weasley is at stake then I know Draco won't be able to eat, either." He stood up, tossing his fork down on his plate, muttering about wasted galleons. Taking Pansy's hand, he dragged her up and toward the door.

Just as suddenly as the calm fog had come over her brain, it was gone.

"W-w-where am I?" She was shaking, cowering against a cold marble pillar, arms crossed over herself, her brain spinning. He was here, she could feel him, but she just couldn't see him. "Tom? Tom? Where are you?"

"You need me, don't you, Ginny?"

The voice came from everywhere. It echoed off of the high ceiling that she couldn't even see. It swam around the pillars, that as her vision adjusted she could see were in the shape of a snake. It rebounded against the cold, damp walls. It was loud, it rattled her brain, but not in the way it just had. "You need me, because otherwise you are lost, aren't you?"  
"Tom, this isn't funny. I want to go back to the castle. You need to let me go."

"Silly girl. You never were very bright without me. You _are_ at the castle. You're just somewhere very few people have the lucky chance of seeing." Standing on quivering legs, she leaned against the marble behind her, looking around, feeling tired.

"This isn't funny!"

"It isn't supposed to be." Closer, now, he sounded closer. Her heart rate quickened, and she began to dig in her pockets for her wand.

"Too late, love, I already took that from you. I have quite a few other things to take from you before I am finished, too. The spell is almost complete you know."

"What? What spell? What are you talking about?"

"Its an ancient ceremony, really." Suddenly, he was in front of her, twirling his wand in his fingertips. He smiled at her, though it was cruel. "Old magic, back when they didn't just say words but had whole, beautiful ceremonies. They're more lasting that way. It's a shame that the school stopped teaching them."

"You're barmy," she whispered, swallowing down the fear that had lodged itself in her throat. "Give me my wand, Tom, and let me leave."

"It was simple, really. I didn't think it would be at first. But after I took your confidence, after I made you codependent…" he paused, smiling wider. "_Love for the master willingly given_, yes, that was the line. You love me, don't you Gin? You're ashamed about it now, of course, now that I've hurt you, now that you know someone else loves you. But you love me. You _need_ me."

"Barmy," she whispered again. "Mad, absolutely mad." Pushing herself away from the pillar she started to back away from Tom, only looking behind her to make sure she wasn't going to trip over the rubble.

"After that… It was just _Innocence of a lady forcibly taken, _well you know all about that one, don't you, I think that one was my favorite. Remember, remember how you cried? How you were terrified of what your mum would say if she found out? And then I couldn't get you to stop." He laughed. "You'll have another go with me Ginny, won't you? Before I let you leave."

"Tom, I'm not going to touch you." Her back bumped against a wall, warm, almost hot as she pushed harder, burning through her shirt. She whipped around, staring at the golden wall that circled around them.

"I couldn't have you running away, Gin. No, not when I'm so close. Not when we're almost done. I promise. It won't hurt in the end. Not if you behave."

"No!"

"I just need one more thing, Ginny, well, two really, to complete it. I need a memory. And I need your life."

Her back hit the wall again, palms and nails and fingers scratching against the golden surface, trying to find purchase to escape, but the wall just burned against her skin, blisters appearing on her hands and bare arms unless she pulled away fast enough. "Leave me alone!"

"The memory won't hurt, Ginny. Not at first."

If being under the imperio was like being under water, then having Legilimens practiced on you was like sleeping. Except for the fact that memories were being thrown to the forefront of her mind, it felt as though nothing was happening.

The first time she wrote in the diary.

Christmas last year, when her sweater was green and silver and her brothers threw a fit.

Her first Quidditch Match.

The first time Tom touched her.

Draco Malfoy's eyes.

Tom slapping her across the face.

They were endless, relentless, and when at last he seemed to settle on a warm, safe place in a circular room, wrapped in the arms of Draco Malfoy, he withdrew, leaving her to crumple and sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**[AN: woo.. So. When I said in the last chapter was getting hard to write, I wasn't quite prepared for this. It kind of just happened. Nothing is ****_too_**** graphic, but, again, please let me know what to think. I've been listening to Wizard Rock all week, so hopefully something magical happens that I can get the next chapter out quickly. Yay.]**

"Father! What are you doing here?" The procession behind Draco Malfoy stopped abruptly, Pansy nearly running into Draco's broad back. Behind her, Blaise chuckled, grabbing her hand to pull her back into him, an arm wrapping loosely around her waist, allowing him to litter kisses across her neck and shoulder, obviously not worried about Draco's father's opinions.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy," she called, standing on tip-toes in Blaise's embrace and squirming away from his warm lips, smiling hugely.

Mr. Malfoy had always had a soft spot for the girl, especially since she and his son had dated for such a brief time in fifth year… It was no secret that Lucius was always inventing ways for Narcissa to invite Miss Parkinson over to the Manor for dinner or brunch, so he actually smiled at the girl, though his eyes lacked the usual sparkle that came out when he greeted her.

"Pansy my dear, it is lovely to see you, as ever. The boys are treating you well?" He seemed unusually calm, Draco thought, frowning as Pansy giggled and wriggled out of Blaise's grasp to rush forward and hug his father, kissing him on each cheek.

"They always treat me splendidly."

"Ahem, Father?" Pansy turned to look at Draco, moving back to Blaise's side. "What are you doing here?"

"Your owl seemed quite urgent, and uncharacteristic. I thought I would come down and answer your questions in person, as well." His voice shifted from warm to cool in seconds, and Draco's shoulders tensed. He turned to look at his friends.

"Why don't you all go on down to the Great Hall? I'll meet you there, I just need to speak to my father first."

"What about Gin?" Pansy started, voice sad.

"I said go down to the Great Hall, I'll meet you there later," Draco said again, gritting his teeth. Pansy nodded, grabbing Blaise's hand and dragging him down the hallway.

"It was lovely to see you, Mr. Malfoy," she called. "I'll be sure to come for dinner at the manor with Blaise sometime."

"Have a nice chat, Mr. Malfoy," Blaise added, winking at Draco as he switched positions with Pansy and tugged her behind a tapestry several feet down the hallway where they were, presumably, going to snog until Draco's chat with his father was done.

The two stood staring at each other for a long moment, their cool, identical eyes unblinking as they dared the other to back down first. Draco Malfoy wasn't entirely fond of his father. He had idolized him for most of his life, and in many things still did, but as he grew he was becoming his own man and was starting to move away from Lucius' blood purity ideals.

"Had something to say to me you couldn't include in a howler, then?" He asked, voice stiff as he moved to stand next to his father, nodding his head down the hallway. The faster he moved the faster this conversation could be over.

"I was genuinely concerned, Draco. Tom must have done something extraordinarily wrong for you to turn on your friend so." Draco's lips turned up into a bitter smile, and he shook his head.

"You have no idea."

"Then I suggest you start explaining."

When Ginny woke she was bound.

Her shirt had been torn and ripped.

A large slit had been ripped up the side of her already short skirt.

Her black shoes had been removed and she was standing in a puddle of something in bare feet.

It took her a moment to realize she was upright, lashed to one of the mighty snake pillars that she had seen before she had passed out. Slowly, she blinked, looking around, wincing at the pain that turning her head to the left and right caused. Tom was hiding, again, but her school bag had been split open. Textbooks were strewn across the floor, pages missing and laying, sodden on the stone ground. Quills, sugar and otherwise, were snapped and broken, and her color changing ink was slowly webbing its way across the flagstones, staining the dank floors pink and purple and blue and red. Her muggle book was missing, and she swallowed hard, turning her head away form her bag to look up at the ropes that were cutting into the flesh on her wrists and ankles and hips. Wiggling made it tighter. She bit her lip to keep a gasp from escaping her mouth, her head still throbbing.

"What kind of trash have you been reading, Ginny?"

She screamed, whipping her head to the front at the abrupt, harsh voice. For a moment, Ginny's vision swirled, bright white stars popping across the image. Tom stood there, a snarl on his face as he flipped through her trashy muggle novel. He would stop every so often, tearing out a page and crumpling them to land on the floor.

"Do you feel like I'm some crazed S&M man that thinks of you like this? Don't you know that I _love_ you?" Ginny whimpered as he strode forward, clutching her chin in his fingers, bruising her pale skin almost instantly. "I can show you what I'd be like if I was this sick, Ginny, if I wanted to." He paused, a cruel smile curling over his lips. Still holding her chin in his fingers, he looked away, eyes scanning the page he had stopped on. "It's trash, Ginny." Licking his lips, he gave a humorless laugh. "_'I'd like to bite that lip,'_" he reads, voice mocking. "_ 'I'm a quivering, moist mess, and he hasn't even touched me. I squirm in my seat and meet his dark glare."_ Tom snorts, looking back down at Ginny, gaze calculating.

"Is that why you like this book so much? Is this how pathetic you are? Do you want _me_ to bite your lip, Ginny? Or do you want Draco to?"

"Don't," she whispered, flinching as his nails dug into her skin, too. "Just let me go."

"No, no, no I want you to be able to live some of these erotic fantasies of yours. Clearly I wasn't doing a very good job of keeping you satiated. I want my girl happy, don't I?"

"Tom…" Her voice was quiet, rough in her throat, and she swallowed, pushing her back against the pillar, trying to shrink away from him.

"I just want to bite your lip, Gin." And his face was suddenly centimeters away from hers. "After all, if you were reading this trash, you must like it." Quick as a snake, Tom's teeth sunk down on her lower lip, and she shrieked, trying to jerk her head out of his hold. He bit until he drew blood and then began to suck on her lower lip, drawing it into his mouth, pulling an involuntary moan from her throat. He pulled away, smirking, releasing her face. "You still want me, Gin. Its so obvious…" His hand slid back into her hair, making a fist. "I could make you do anything. He makes her suck him off, I could make you do that to me, couldn't I? If it meant I would let you go?"

Ginny stared up at him, attempting to keep her eyes purposefully blank, but when he pulled her hair she gave a small cry.

"Wouldn't you, Ginny? Wouldn't you? If I let you go?"

"Fine, yes, Tom," she said, voice cracking on the yes. "Just let me go."

"Whore." He sneered, dropping the book, and raising his hand to slap her again. "Don't you know that I know what you think about and dream about? I just spent some quality time in your head there, my dear. I know exactly what you are thinking of when you sleep, when you aren't with me, even when you are. You would do that for Draco Malfoy, for Potter, probably even for your own brother."

"What?!" Outraged, Ginny didn't even feel the stinging in her cheek, as she stared at Tom. "What in the world are you talking about?"

"You're such a sexual deviant, Gin, a tart," he said, laughing angrily, kicking her muggle book across the floor, where it skittered into a puddle, absorbing the dirty water, ruining the pages. Oddly enough, she was most concerned about the fact that she would have to buy a new book to replace Hermione's now, the question of if she'd even get out of here evaded her mind.

"What's the one thing you would never forgive yourself for doing?" Draco asked his father, hands tucked into his pockets, hiding from the damp cold as they strolled quietly through the dungeons. His father had wanted to reminisce about his old school days, and it was the perfect opportunity to stay away from old prying ears and eyes. The two had wandered into the deepest part of the dungeons, well past Snape's private storerooms.

"What?" Lucius' brows furrowed as he looked at his son.

"Oh, come on, I know there is one thing, at least, that you would hate yourself for if you did," Draco joked, weakly, looking at his father.

"Abuse, Draco, is not something to joke about," his father said stiffly.

"I'm not joking," Draco said, his jaw clenching. "You would never forgive yourself if you hit mother, and you know it is so frowned upon by Wizarding Courts that you could spend up to,"

"Up to 50 years in Azkaban, or more, depending on the severity of the violence. Yes, yes I know. But those are not the only reasons to refrain from doing such disgusting things." Draco watched as his father's lips curled up in sneer to rival Snape's. "Hitting a woman or a child is an act of cowardice that is disgusting. Abusing a woman in anyway."

"I don't understand," Draco said quietly, mostly to himself, "how hitting a woman or child is so different than hitting a muggle born woman or child."

"I don't expect you to understand everything, growing up and learning in this," his father crinkled his nose, as if smelling something disgusting, "establishment. But," he paused, drawing a long suffering sigh. "Hitting any woman is an act of cowardice. _I _would never lay a hand on a woman regardless of blood purity. There are others who do not agree with me."

The two walked in silence for some time, Draco lost in his own thoughts. "Why are you asking?"

"Curious as to your reaction." Lucius sniffed and then his eyes widened, rounding on his son. "Are you seeing a woman and hitting her? Do not expect me to agree with you on this."

Draco help up his hands in quick surrender. "Not me."

"Not you?"

"No." Draco paused. "Tom."

"Falsely accusing Tom of this is in bad form, Draco," Lucius said quietly, his bristles settling as he turned away from his son, breathing deeply through his nose, again, apparently to calm his nerves.

"Trust me, I'm not falsely accusing him of anything. Pansy knows, she's the one that told me. Ginny finally expressed it to me."

"Ginny? You mean you are finally on a first name basis with the girl?" An amused smile settled on his father's lips. "Oh your mother will just be _thrilled_ with this new development. She always had an inkling…"

"An inkling for what?" In the darkness of the dungeon's Draco's ears colored the lightest shade of pink, and he quickly averted his gaze from his father, swallowing hard. "What development? I don't see a problem with being on a first name basis with any of the Weasleys… They are a pure blood family, aren't they?" His father laughed, actually laughed, and Draco stumbled to a stop in surprise. "What?!" he asked irritably.

"Of course you would think there is nothing wrong with a family of blood traitors. I already told you, you were raised so_ differently_ than me, even though I wanted to have more of a say in your home education, your mother strictly forbid it, especially since the Dark Lord fell…" He shook his head. "Though I suspect that he'll be back sooner, rather than later," he added, mostly as an undertone to himself. "Your mother just always assumed that eventually something would go on between you and the Weasley girl, it was only a matter of time. You always had to have everything Tom had, and more."

"What is that supposed to mean?! No, no!" Shaking his head viciously and throwing his hands out in front of them in a motion similar to "safe" in the American muggle game, Baseball (and, consequently, Criquette, which was Baseball or Cricket on a broomstick…) to keep his father, or himself, from continuing. "No, we are getting too far off of topic. Tom is abusing Ginny Weasley, Father, and you just graciously overlooked that. If you had found out from Tom that I was hitting my girlfriend around you would have removed my hands."

"Painfully at that, too," Lucius said, his eyes steeling. "Are you sure of this, Draco?" He sighed, turning away form his son to look at the blank dungeon wall. "He said that he wouldn't hurt her like that again, unless it was necessary, but he has always been quite unstable in this form… jealous, angry… I just never thought he would go so far as to abuse an… well… what did I expect, naturally…" Draco stared at his father's back, mouth slack as his father began to speak to himself in quiet tones.

"Father?"

"Hmmm?"

"Who _is_ Tom?"

"Draco! Draco!" From far up the corridor, Pansy Parkinson's panicked voice echoed down to them, followed by the rapid tap of her feet. "Draco! You've got to hurry, oh Merlin, _Draco_!"

He was everywhere, all at once, it was everything she was used to. His taste as he plundered her mouth, though he was rougher than usual, drawing blood when he bit down on her lips, and, once or twice, her tongue. His touch, he grasped and groped everywhere, ripping the small pearly white buttons from her blouse, bunching the length of her skirt up around her hips, his knee shoved crudely between her thighs, yanking on her hair; he bruised her skin without thinking, his lips moving from hers to her neck to bite and suck, drawing an involuntary gasp from her.

But there was something more. The overwhelming feeling of being stolen from, of being accosted and robbed and the uselessness of the situation was heightened by the bonds that tightened every time she was jostled or moved, by the dark room, by the hopelessness of ever getting out without him, or of ever being found. And then, then there was his presence _in _her. In her mind, she could feel him probing about in her memories, trying to bring up the most horrifying memories.

"Tart," he whispered, his breathing completely calm next to her ragged, raspy breath, her chest heaving with the effort to fight him off and to _not_ desire him. "Slagger." He laughed as he yanked on her hair once more, watching as tears sprang to her eyes. "I'm the one kissing and touching you, and your body likes it…" He rose his eyebrows, a challenge, and a dare, she knew, to correct him as his knee rubbed against her. She bit her lip, willing her body to _stop_, to find this horrific, to hate him. "And yet… And yet you're not thinking about me, you're thinking about him. Why?"

He pulled away from her, leaving her legs splayed and her shirt open. The cold air from dungeons brushed across her skin and she shivered. The feeling in her hands was beginning to fade, being replaced by prickling pins and needles. Tom circled her, tapping his chin while he walked.

"Are you more sexually aroused by him, than you are by me? Doubtful, you'll get your knickers wet over anybody…" His voice faded as he walked behind her again, and Ginny's heart rate spiked painfully. "And I don't know why I'm worried about that, you're too ugly for a bloke to be worth caught cheating with, anyway." Heat flooded her face as he stopped to stare at her. "I'm the best you'll ever get, and you now that. No, I think I know the reason why you think of him." His eyes flashed with a level of cruelty she had yet to see in him… "Malfoy makes you feel _safe_ doesn't he? You can hide behind him when you think I'm hurting you. You _do_ hide behind him when I'm punishing you. I should have known you were too weak to take it. I'm punishing you for a reason though, Ginny, why don't you understand that? You've been bad, you know that, don't you? That's why I punish you? Don't you, Ginny?"

Ginny Weasley stared blankly back at Tom, her resolve to hate him returning as he stared at her like that.

"Say it, Ginny."

"Say what?" Her voice came out as a hoarse croak.

"Say that I'm punishing you because you've been bad. Say it and maybe I'll let you go. And you want to be let go, don't you? To go back to Malfoy and your brother and his friends? Because you don't have any friends of your own to go back to, otherwise they would have realized that you've been down here for so long, for _hours_, in fact, so you have to go back to your brother and his friends, don't you?"

She responded with a blank stare.

"Say it!"

Nothing.

He stood.

He towered over her.

He glared.

She could see the sweat on his brow, see the anger in his eyes, and still nothing.

Her head rocked, and pain exploded on her jaw as his hand connected with her cheek. Her eyes watered.

"_Say it_."

"I was bad, I deserve to be punished," she whispered.

"Louder."

"I was bad. I deserve to be punished." This time a croak. Voice sore. Eyes watering. Face stinging.

"Again."

"I was bad. I deserve to be punished."

"And you like it don't you, Gin?"

Nod.

"I'm afraid I didn't hear you."

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I like it."

"Like what?"

"Like being punished. Because I was bad. I deserve to be."

"Good girl."

"I… Luna, that blonde girl in Ravenclaw. Ginny's friend. You know her. She… She told me." Pansy was gasping as she jogged to keep up with Draco and his father, who were both swiftly tearing down the corridor to head up the stairs toward the first floor bathroom. "She came and got me, me and Snape, said something was terribly wrong, didn't want the rest of the school to know about it." She drew in a ragged breath, her lungs rattling as they began to take the stairs by two. Draco was barely listening to her. He'd heard blood, Dark Lord, and sacrifice in the same sentence and spun around to start running. He had assumed that his father was only following because of the sheer anticipation in discovering that after all these years his precious ruler would return to power.

"Of course," Pansy whispered as they came skidding to a halt at the entrance to the corridor, "by the time she retrieved Snape and me… everyone else had found out."

They stood staring at the crowd of pressing bodies, people clamoring and shouting, trying to get a good look at the message written in blood on the wall. Recollections of his second year flashed through Draco's mind. The petrified cat, Mrs. Norris. The bloody writing on the wall. The terror. And the excitement. Now, though, he felt his gut churn unhappily, and he spun to stare at his father, who was looking at the wall in awe.

"You knew," he growled, stepping forward, stopped only by Pansy's hand that gripped his upper arm.

"Draco, don't, not here. Dumbledore, you can talk to Dumbledore. But not here," she whispered, looking fervently at the Gryffindor crowd that had turned to look at the family squabble that was starting behind them, their eyes alight with malicious curiosity.

"What part did she play in this?" Draco snarled, looking at his father who was now staring at his son.

"Who? The sacrifice? The sacrifice could be just anyone, like it has been all along…" His father whispered, still looking awestruck, almost lost. Draco's mind reeled, thinking back to the things Ginny had told him about Tom and the children from Hogsmeade. Looking at Pansy he grabbed her shoulders, pulling her close.

"Have you seen Ginny, yet?" She shook her head, violently back and forth. "Listen, stay here and make sure he doesn't leave. Take him to go find Blaise and go to Dumbledore's office. Hopefully I'll meet you there. I have to find Ginny. I have to." Dropping Pansy's shoulders he shoved his way into the crowd, beginning to elbow people out of the way to reach the front.

"Professor Mcgonagall," he murmured, finally breaking free of the last few students by showing his prefects badge and threatening to dock a few house points. "Professor Snape. Have you, have you seen…"

"No," Professor Mcgonagall said, pursing her lips. "No, I'm afraid the prefects have already called roll."

"Two students besides those known to be in the hospital wing or throughout the castle by housemates have yet to be accounted for," Professor Snape said quietly, looking at Draco with a calm expression "The Headmaster has already been by here, we are simply trying to clear everyone off. He wishes to speak to you in his office, Draco." The boy nodded, staring at the wall as Professor Mcgonagall attempted to clear everyone out.

"Everyone to their homerooms!" She shouted, waving her wand. "Prefects, lead the way. Ronald, Ronald Weasley!" The redhead came forward, staring at Draco curiously. "I need you to take the Slytherins down to their house, Miss Granger can lead your house. The seventh year prefect for Slytherin is required to be elsewhere." Draco could feel King Weasel's eyes on him, but chose to ignore him, still staring at the wall.

"Yes, Professor," Ron said quietly, turning to leave.

It wasn't until Professor Snape gently took Draco's arm to turn him away from the wall that he could move.

THE CHAMBER HAS BEEN OPENED. THE SACRFICE CHOSEN. THE DARK LORD WILL RISE AGAIN.

"I tried to make it clear in the beginning," Tom said, lazily, looking at the shaking girl. "You know I can't stand sharing you. You know I'm incredibly jealous… I've already told you once to cease speaking to him, but you didn't seem to listen to me. Maybe if I were to let you go, now, you would, but I don't know if you would. I'm not sure I can trust you."

"Please," she whispered, her body still twitching from the last _crucio_ he'd cast. Resounding waves, like the late tremors of an earth quake, continued to roll through her body, sending her into rocking spasms that would last anywhere from minutes to seconds. "Please, please if you let me go… I won't… I won't ever speak to another boy again. I won't ever_ look_ at one again!"

"Not good enough," he whispered, cracking his neck and languidly waving his wand, again. He smiled as she screamed, bucking against the pillar. "No, I think I have to erase these memories. They're pesky. I can't trust you with them. You may start thinking about him next time I kiss you, and we can't have that. You know how jealous I get."

"E-Erase them?" She whispered, teeth chattering and chest heaving at the stamina it took to remain upright at this point. "Erase them how?" Her eyes were wide, staring up at him like a wild animal, if she hadn't been tied, she would have tried to run. He would have liked that, if she had tried to run. Cat and mouse had always been a good game.

"I'll show you," he whispered. "Its an interesting bit of magic. Took quite a bit of finding, but I managed to find and master it." He stalked forward, like a big cat stalking its prey, smiling. Pausing in front of her, he raised her wand, resting the tip on her forehead, smiling down at her. "_Obliviate Eligere_."

A silver thread that looked remarkably like the memories that went into a pensieve connected the tip of the wand and then wrapped around her skull, warm against her skin.

"What?" she managed to whisper before her vision was yanked inside out. She could practically see the thoughts Tom could.

She was seeing the inside of her head.

He began to sift through them, like he was going through sand or mud looking for shells and gold. He let most of them fall, ones with his face in them. Ones with her family. Quidditch. School. First year, in particular, hit her painfully. Memories of her family's trip to Egypt. And then he stopped. Draco's face flashed up at her, he was smiling crookedly, wiping away her tears, telling her to stop being a prat, that Tom would leave her alone from now on, that he would make sure of it.

_"He was wrong."_ Tom whispered, the voice licking around her subconscious.

The memory grew hazy, dissolving at the corners, the background disappearing. A searing pain split her head in two, and she began to scream.

"NO! NO TOM! Leave it! Leave it alone! Get out of my head." Her hands jerked against the bonds, wanting desperately to reach down and grab the wand, wanting to yank it away from her forehead.

The pain was unbearable, like something was being yanked from her brain, and then, just like that, the memory and the pain was gone. For the life of her, Ginny couldn't even remember what she had been screaming about.

"One down," Tom whispered, reaching up to cup Ginny's face, stroking her cheek almost lovingly. "Don't worry, love. The first one is just a taste of what the next few will be."


	11. Chapter 11

**[AN: So, this chapter is pretty... calm (yay) and I pulled back a bit on the ideas of violence... Sorry if you get bored, this is mostly the characters getting to unwrap what is going on, and solving the mystery. Plus, this way I got to play with my second favorite ship- Blaise and Pansy. (: I enjoyed it. Let me know what you think so far, or if you have any questions or concerns about the plot. I don't notice plot holes half of the time... Thanks for reading! Much love 3]**

* * *

"Take a seat, Draco," Dumbledore said quietly from where he stood behind his desk. Draco's hands were still clenched from his frustration during his walk up to his headmaster's office. Sitting stiffly in the comfortable, red chair, he rested his fisted hands on the arms, staring straight ahead at Professor Dumbledore.

His father was sitting in the opposite chair, twirling his wand in his fingertips, looking nervously about the room. Dumbledore watched the two of them with interest, his fingers steepled.

"Draco, I must ask you to relax. Nothing can be done if you are tense. I am about to ask a very serious favor of you, and if you fail to keep an open mind then more than one innocent life may be at stake." Dumbledore paused before turning to look at Lucius, who failed to meet the headmaster's eyes. "Lucius… Lucius, Lucius," he said quietly, shaking his head. "Where did I go wrong with you? I thought that I provided proper guidance when you were here in school." Reaching up, Dumbledore removed his half moon spectacles, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "How long, Lucius, how long did you know this was going on with the girl?"

"I…I didn't," Lucius said quietly, a nervous giggle bubbling up in this throat. "Sacrifice, yes, the Weasley girl… no, no I had no idea."

"Liar," Draco hissed, his eyes flashing. "You planted the diary in her school books her first year at Hogwarts. "She knows, I know. You've known all along he was using her to find _sacrifices_…"

"You shouldn't be consorting with the likes of her anyway!" Lucius snarled, suddenly very lucid and glaring at his son. "You've always been one hair away from crossing the line in my household, boy, and if I find out that you've been… been… been _amusing_ yourself with that blood traitor wench I'll have no problem beating some sense into you!"

"_Lucius!_" Dumbledore's voice cut through the argument but the son was already upon the father, his hands fisted into the collar of his fancy dress robes, pulling him up out of the chair so that their pointed noses nearly touched.

The similarities between father and son were disturbing. Their faces had similar chiseled, pointed looks, from their sharp chins to their aquiline noses. And their grey eyes had the same cold glint, even their hair- despite the difference in length- fell in the same way across their foreheads. The differences, though, were blaring. The softness of the Black side of the family was there- his fuller lips and thin eyebrows, and the sharp sweeping plane of his cheekbone. There, too, was something more human in Draco Malfoy's eyes, however feral at the moment, as he attempted to get his anger under control.

"Do _not_ speak of Ginevra Weasley like you know her," he hissed, the words forcing themselves out around his clenched teeth. "And if you so much as allow another hand to be laid on her because of your pathetic _half-blood_ Lord, then I'll be sure to personally watch the light fade from your eyes." Releasing his father's robes, he straightened, turning to look at Dumbledore who had placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I need to speak to your father. Alone," he said, his voice quiet. Around them, a gentle whir of the silver knick-knacks on the table hummed and Fawkes gave a gentle cry. "If you wouldn't mind waiting just outside, the others will be along shortly." Albus' surprisingly strong grip steered the young man in the direction of the office door, gently pushing him in that direction.

"Others?" Dumbledore simply nodded to the door of his office.

"Just outside the door, Draco, I won't be long."

His footsteps echoed as he walked toward the door, and he could feel the eyes of the portraits on him as he moved. Behind him, his headmaster had already begun to question his father in gentle tones, attempting to prod some answers out of his normally stubborn and tight lipped father. Before the door closed, Draco heard just the last bit of a question.

"Lucius…how long…how long have you known that he was who he is, and how long were you planning on letting him use the girl?"

As the door swung shut behind him before he could hear the answer, and he sighed, closing his eyes.

"What the _fuck_ did you do to my sister you bloody ferret?!"

Draco Malfoy's eyes flew open as Ronald Weasley launched himself at him, one hand closing around the front of his dress shirt, his other arm bracing itself across Draco's throat, effectively pinning him to the door and partially blocking off his air supply.

"Don't play dumb, either, I heard you in there. She's down in some…some chamber for who? What did you do to her?! She said you two were _friends_, clearly she was wrong. Harry knew it all along, I should have just listened to him."

"Let me go, Weasley, gah!" Draco's hands scrambled to find purchase on Ron's thick forearm, trying to pull it away from his throat. "I didn't do anything to your sister, I'm trying to help her." He took a deep breath as Ron growled, slowly raising Draco from the ground, his feet dangling an inch or two off the floor.

"Like hell you are! You aren't going to go anywhere near her again, you bloody prat. And you won't be able to after I'm through with you either. I should have known you and Tom were no good."

"You need to calm down," Draco gasped, definitely not in the mood to fight with Ginny's brother. "I am not trying to hurt your sister, I was trying to keep her from being hurt."

"She may be naïve enough to believe your bloody lies, but I sure has hell am not."

"Language, Mister Weasley," Dumbledore said calmly as he pulled the door open, stepping quickly to the side. Both men let out a yelp as Draco fell backwards into Dumbledore's study, striking his head against the floor and wheezing as a very solid Ron Weasley landed on top of him. "I think you'll find that Mister Malfoy is being honest with you. Now really, you two, stand up, we don't have nearly enough time to be laying around."

Coughing, Ron rolled off of Draco, scrambling to his feet, though still glowering at the blonde boy who was still trying to catch his breath on the floor.

"I heard him in there, I heard him talking about it. Talking about my sister being hurt for you-know-who. You can't possibly let him get away with this Professor! I never thought that you would be one to believe that money talks."

"You didn't hear the whole story, I am afraid, Ronald," Dumbledore said, smiling kindly. "Now, please, come sit down. I expected the others to be along shortly, or at least for Harry to arrive with you." He guided the two boys to the chairs, Lucius had been relocated to a corner where he sat, sulking, still spinning his wand in his hands. "He won't hear anything, so you have nothing to fear from him, he's slipped into a bit of a state of shock, really." Waving his wand, Albus Dumbledore conjured three more chairs, nodding thoughtfully. "Yes, that will do, of course."

"You wanted to see us, Professor?"  
"Harry, Hermione! Wonderful, yes, please, come take a seat," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the plushy chairs.  
"What's _he_ doing here?" Hermione asked, stopping as she approached Draco's chair. Malfoy's fingers curled into fists on the armrests, but he remained face forward, attempting to ignore the witch behind him. A nagging feeling in the back of his mind told him that he definitely did not want to start picking fights right now, now when Ginny was in desperate need of help.

"I'm sure we could ask you the same thing. Why did you go and start the party without us, Draco?"

"Pansy? What are you doing here?"

"Yeah- what are you doing here?" Harry repeated Malfoy, eyes narrowed as Hermione sunk into the chair next to Ron and he took the seat on the other side.

"Professor Dumbledore asked us," Pansy sniffed, pulling Blaise into the room and directing him into a chair. He eyed the other two in the room casually before sitting in the open place next to Malfoy, Pansy perching on the arm, clasping Blaise's hand.

"Why would Dumbledore ask you?" Harry asked, incredulously. "Did you all have a part in this ridiculous scheme to kidnap Ginny too?"

"I _love_ Ginny, Harry," Pansy said, raising her eyebrows. "I wouldn't do anything to hurt her, and neither would these boys. She's like a sister to Blaise." Ron didn't miss the amused, but meaningful, look that passed between Blaise and Draco. "We have only been trying to help her since the beginning of this term."

"That's the biggest load of…"

"Enough!" Dumbledore's voice, though quiet, rang with authority as he looked at the six sitting before him. "I understand that Syltherins and Gryffindors do not get along by nature, though I have never come to understand why. Gryffindor and Slytherin were the greatest of friends when they helped to found this school, and each house shares similar qualities, even if they are not on the surface level." He reclined back in his seat, his hands folded neatly in his lap. "You each are fiercely loyal to your friends, though in different ways. Gryffindors are courageous, and generally able to get ahead while Slytherins are cunning, which can require, if you look at in a certain slant of light, a good deal of bravery… Deceiving evil for good, why, that is not an easy task." Harry scowled, though no one else said a word.

"Now, I think you all have an idea of what has happened, and I am only going to clarifiy a few things. The rest will be for Miss Weasley to explain at her leisure when she is, for lack of a better term, rescued." He drew a deep breath. "I believe that Tom Quandary is not who he seems, and I also believe that he is holding your sister in a chamber that Salazar Slytherin created here when the school was erected."

"Who do you think he is, Professor?" Hermione asked, timidly, her head tilted to the side. Dumbledore shook his head.

"I do not want to increase any worry, just know that this is of the upmost urgency, and work together as a team."

"What?!" A wild look came to Ron's eyes and he turned to look at the three students in green next to him. "What did you lot get my sister mixed up in?!"

"I must stress the importance of inter-house unity," Dumbledore continued, staring at Ron. "These students had nothing to do with this, and knew nothing about what was going on until just now. They had an idea that your sister was in a bad situation and Mister Malfoy and Miss Parkinson have both been working very hard on helping her out of it."

"What sort of situation?" Hermione asked, sitting forward and looking intently at the headmaster. "She never told us about anything that was going on. Surely Ginny would have told her closest friends." Pansy quickly coughed to cover up a laugh, looking down when both Dumbledore and Draco looked at her.

"Sorry, itch in my throat," she whispered, clearing her throat to make her point.

"That situation is not for me to disclose. There are certain boundaries that were set with Miss Weasley and Mister Malfoy when they met with me. If Miss Weasley feels comfortable enough to disclose the situation when we retrieve her then she may. But that is entirely her decision. Regardless of if she feels comfortable enough speaking to you about it or not, I must ask the six of you to work together to help her."

"Anything."

The solemnity and confidence that permeated Draco Malfoy's voice had the three Gryffindors looking at him in surprise, their eyebrows raised.

"I'll do anything to help her, you know that, Professor," he said quietly.

"I wasn't worried about you, Draco," Dumbledore said, smiling slightly. He then looked at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "I would ask Harry to work with Mister Malfoy. I believe that you will be needed to open the Chamber, Harry, as you have the ability to speak to snakes- something that you share with Salazar Slytherin and, of course, Voldemort." Three of the students seated before him visibly flinched at the mention of the name.

"But… Professor, we don't even know where this chamber is."

"All in due time, Mister Potter, all in due time." He then turned to look at Hermione. "Miss Granger, it will be imperative that you work with Miss Parkinson. You two are excellent at potions, and I believe a particularly tricky one will be needed the moment that Miss Weasley is returned to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey will be busy working on a second potion that I pray won't be necessary."

"What about me?" Ron asked, jamming his thumb into his chest. "I'm her brother. I want to be down there with Harry and Malfoy to save her."

"Harry will not be venturing futher than what I believe is the last entrance to the chamber. His appearance would only worsen Tom's already awful mood. Draco showing his face will be enough of a problem. Your job, Mister Weasley, is the most important. You and Blaise are to move the houses into the great hall and make sure they do not roam the castle. If all the students are in one central place then we can be sure that they remain safe and unharmed. You will also be notifying your family, which I thought you would want to do personally." He paused briefly. "I, myself, will be traveling to the ministry to alert the minister and the aurors. Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall are both aware of the situation, to some extent. They will be keeping an eye out."

Draco watched as Ron nodded numbly and wondered how confused everyone was by the choice for him to go and rescue Ginny. But really, he didn't care what they thought, he just wanted to get this over with.

"Right," Draco continued after a moment's silence, drawing a shaky breath, "so where's this chamber?"

* * *

Hermione scowled at Pansy as the girl swatted her boyfriends wandering hands out of the way before she added a frozen Ashwinder Egg to the cauldron.

"Dumbledore said he was supposed to be helping Ron," she said stiffly, brushing a strand of her bushy hair out of her eyes as she held a vial level to her line of vision with her other hand. "Ron is going to need help keeping all of those students in line."

"Your boyfriend sent me up here," Blaise said, shrugging, and offering Hermione a smile. "I'm staying out the way, aren't I?"

"For the most part," Pansy murmured, giggling as she waved her wand over the potion. "Anyways, now we just need to let it sit for an hour and then add the final ingredients. I'm glad we worked together, though, Granger, really. It wasn't an easy potion by any stretch of the word."

"Well, I suppose," Hermione sighed, looking up from her work cutting up a long thin black root to stare at her partner. "I suppose you're right. There is no way I would have been able to get it done if I'd been working by myself, and I've made my fair share of Polyjuice Potion in my time here…"

"Hermione Granger, a rule breaker," Pansy marveled, leaning back against Blaise's chest, he proceeded to wrap his arms around her waist, burying his head in the crook of her neck and shoulder, gently kissing the skin there. "Maybe we are more alike than we thought."

Brushing her hands on the front of her skirt, Hermione shrugged, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. "So do we know what this potion is even for?" She asked gesturing to the potions list. "I know that the Ashwinder Egg you added earlier is for chills and ague, but then… Asphodel is used to either put someone to sleep or wake them up." Scanning down the list, she paused at another ingredient. "And I don't even remember learning about this in potions class… Wartizome…"

"Didn't Professor Lupin keep a jar of that?" Pansy asked, leaning forward, bending into Blaise. "I remember hearing the name…"

"If Professor Lupin had it… then… Hm… Pain? He was always, well, getting sick."

"Sneaking off to turn into a werewolf, you mean?" Blaise asked, pulling his girlfriend back upright. "Slytherins are pretty smart, we see a lot of things other houses don't, you know." Hermione rolled her eyes, pushing her sleeves up her arm.

"And then there's this," Pansy said, grabbing the list, and pointing toward one of the ingredients scribbled into the bottom. "Sunflower oil and the root of a Lilly are to be sprinkled in at the end, after the potion has simmered. Why?"

"Pansy," Hermione said slowly, looking from the list to the girl across the table from her, "who did Professor Dumbledore say that Tom was?" Pansy looked away from the cauldron, her eyes locking with the Gryffindor across from her.

"He didn't…"

"I've got to go to the library!" Hermione said, scrambling to collect her scarf and her bag from the hospital bed next to where they'd set up their table, jumping form her seat. "Do you think you two will be okay here? Just let it simmer. I should be back before the hour is up. I've just got to… got to check something."

"Granger," Pansy said, grabbing Hermione's hand, looking quite serious, "don't go running off on us. Here, Blaise, go with her."

"I'm not going to leave you here," Hermione scoffed, narrowing her eyes, "Dumbledore trusts me."

"No, no, I know. I just… I don't know how safe the castle is. Let Blaise go with you, I'll be fine in the Hospital Wing, I'll burn some sage by the door or something," she said, her lips tilting up momentarily, before she burst out laughing at Hermione's shocked expression. "The Parkinson Family name goes back centuries," she said, running her fingers through her dark hair, "don't look so suprirsed that my family and I are a bit superstitious." Hermione slammed her jaw shut, smiling slightly.

"Of course. Well, yes, Blaise can come with me." Blaise scowled in response, giving his girlfriend a lingering kiss before he wandered out behind Hermione Granger, his hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers, a pouty slouch in his step.

"Be good you two!" Pansy called at his retreating back. "No making out in the stacks!"

But despite her good humor, when the heavy door to the hospital wing swung shut, she shivered and quickly turned to root out a sprig of sage and a match, marching with determination to the door and forcing herself to ignore the feeling in her stomach at the creeping shadows on the wall.

* * *

"I still don't understand," Harry said about thirty minutes later as he and Draco were gingerly picking their way across a bone littered floor, "why Dumbledore would think it is a bad idea for me to go and it isn't for you." Harry concentrated on the back of the blonde's head while they walked, the gears in his head turning. He and Ginny hadn't necessarily seen eye-to-eye on the friends she had in Slytherin but Pansy hadn't turned out to be all bad he supposed, and so far Draco hadn't done a single thing to push any of his buttons, in fact he was being unnaturally quiet as they crawled around what appeared to be the sewers of the school together. "I mean, unless you_ are_ seeing Ginny and she just hasn't told any of us." When Harry didn't get a reaction from his companion he pushed on. "And Ginny would never do something like that. She's always been very honest, especially with her brother- she practically worships the ground he walks on, you know."

"Would you _please_ shut up?" Draco hissed, grimacing as a small bone cracked under his feet, the popping noise seemed to echo about the chamber they currently found themselves in. "Dumbledore said that anything Ginny wanted to share with you when we get her out she could share with you, but that it isn't our place to talk about it."

"Why not, though? It concerns you too," Harry said. "Especially if it is a relationship… If I were in a relationship with someone I would want to shout it from the rooftops, not keep it all hushed up. Unless, that is, you're ashamed of Ginny…?"

"Again, Potter, its really not any of your business, I just need you to open this next door so I can get through and be the hero you are dying to be so we can all go on our merry way." They continued on in silence, following the silver light from their wands held high above their heads. "Besides," Draco said quietly after a moment, "you are not exactly my best mate, so forgive me if I'm not dying to tell you all the secret details of my life." Behind him, Harry rolled his eyes.

"Right, well… Holy Circe," he whispered, standing on his tiptoes to get his wand even higher. "What in Merlin's name is _that_?"

Draco turned around, following Harry's finger toward a long something that was curled across the ground. The silver light of their wand reflected dully off of it, and Draco's brow furrowed, walking toward it.

"It looks like…" He squatted down, resting on arm on his thigh as he held his wand closer to the surface. "It looks like a snake skin," he whispered. "A rather large one, at that." The two boys exchanged nervous looks. "Must be getting closer, then," he said nervously, clearing his throat.

"I think I'm glad you're going on without me," Harry said, laughing as Draco straightened up.

"Just don't run off on me, I'm going to need your help getting back up those ruddy pipes, especially if Ginny isn't able to walk herself out of here."

"You don't think she's hurt, do you?"

It was impossible to miss the quite note of desperation in Harry Potter's voice and it irritated Draco. Wasn't this guy supposed to be the chosen one? Wasn't he supposed to be fearless in the face of danger? Hadn't he supposedly defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort twice, now? Standing, Draco brushed off the dust from his pants and straightened the collar of his shirt.

"That's what I'd like to believe, Potter," he said, gritting his teeth. "C'mon. Probably not too much further before you can run back to your friends."

* * *

"And what exactly are we looking for?" Blaise asked, lounging against one of the shelving units in the library, wiggling his nose to keep from sneezing in the dust.

"A book," Hermione said absentmindedly as she scanned the old leather bindings, standing on her tip-toes in order to reach the top shelf.

"Obviously," her companion responded with a yawn, running a hand down his face. "Why?"

"I read something in _Hogwarts, A History_ once, probably a thousand times, really, that referenced another book to learn more about the Founders of Hogwarts. It was called _Founding Fathers_, now I only skimmed through most of that since it was finals week, but I definitely remember reading something in a later volume about the legends behind each Founder."

"Legends?"

"Yeah, you know, like how the Sword of Gryffindor appears to a true Gryffindor who is in need of it? Or how Ravenclaws Diadem vanished, but they had plenty of conspiracy theories about where it had been hidden or why it was stolen, and that it was supposed to enhance the knowledge of the wearer."

"And you believed all of that hogwash? I really took you as a more practical girl."

"Of course I didn't believe it," Hermione scoffed, waving her hand in the air, "but all theories have some sort of logic behind them, and if we find out more about this chamber, which we know now exists, then maybe we'll learn more about who we are up against."

"Didn't Dumbledore not tell us to keep us from panicking?"

"It's a bit too late for that, don't you think?" Practically standing on ballet pointe, she extended her arm as far as she could, trying to reach a particularly thick tome with the number 7 inscribed in gold along the bottom edge. "Just about…"

"Here." Walking up behind her, Blaise reached up, easily grabbing the book off the shelf as he towered over here. "Next time just ask," he added, smirking at the blush that rushed up the Gryffindor's cheeks. As soon as he handed her the book, she spun out from around him, lugging the heavy volume over to one of the study tables in the empty library, flipping to the index, and then to the middle of the book.

"Right, it should be here somewhere…" Running her finger down the script she paused every so often before shaking her head and continuing to pursue the words on the page. "Here we go! '_According to legend, Salazar Slytherin built a chamber deep underneath the school, possibly even below the dungeons before he left the institution due to a disagreement with the other founders over blood purity. The chamber, known as The Chamber of Secrets is supposedly home to a terrifying snake-like creature called a Basilisk. The creature can only be controlled by wizards with a powerful wizard inherited gift called Parseltongue…_'"

"Why would he put a Basilisk that can only be controlled by Parseltongue in the dungeons of the school? Bloody wanker was mad."

"He could speak Parseltongue," Hermione said, blinking in surprise. "You didn't know that about the founder of your own house?"

"Sorry, I don't often lock myself in the library at all hours of the night and read boring school books," Blaise muttered. "That isn't common is it, that gift?" Hermione shook her head.

"No, listen: _'Parseltongue is a rare gift passed down through families and only a few wizards are known to have it. The gift has been stigmatized to only belong to dark wizards. Based on the legend, the Chamber could only be opened by Salazar's heir, which has lead many to speculate that it can only be open by someone who speaks snake. … The Chamber was opened once during the 1942-1943 school year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.'_ Interesting, someone really wanted to hide the next page, didn't they?" She asked, lifting the book to show Blaise the blotted out writing. He pulled out his wand, moving to stand behind her, and tapped the page. Only a little of the ink seeped out of the page, and he blew out a frustrated breath.

"Is that better?" But Hermione was already back in the stacks, yanking down a thin book the Hogwarts Coat of Arms stamped in gold on the front of the black cover. "Now what book are you looking at?"

"I'm looking at the students who were here during that year," she said, looking at him like he was an idiot. "That will help narrow it down, won't it?"

"How will you know what house to look in?"

"Well, that's obvious, isn't it? It said that the gene to speak to snakes is passed down through wizard families and that only the heir to Slytherin could open the chamber… So it must be someone in the Slytherin House." She opened the book, stopping at the page where a great serpent practically sprang out of the image, dropping it on the table with a screech. Blaise chuckled, scooping the book up.

"Afraid of a wee garden snake, are ya lass?" He asked, flipping through the pages. "I thought you were supposed to be a lion."

"Yes well, I always thought the sorting hat put me in the wrong house," Hermione sniffed, fiddling with her gold and maroon scarf.

"Too brainy for the jocks?" Blaise asked, pausing. "Hey, does he look familiar to you?" He shoved the book under her nose, pointing to a young man who smirked up at the camera. The name written in beautiful scrawl said "Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"He looks… a bit like Tom Quandary, don't you think?" Hermione whispered, looking from the book to Blaise, who furrowed his brow.

"Isn't quandary a synonymy for riddle?"

"Big words, I'm impressed," the girl said thoughtfully, nodding. "But it is. Probably just a coincidence…"

"They could be twins," Blaise said, exasperated, smacking the page, much to the disgruntled anger of its occupants.

"But who is Tom Riddle?" Hermione asked, putting the book down and returning to the _Founding Fathers _volume, holding the page up the light to try and read under the inkblot. Meanwhile, Blaise wandered back into the stacks, coming back cradling a book open in his arms.

"It says that a basilisk can kill with just one look, and paralyze a person if you catch a reflection of its yellow eyes… You don't think that Slytherin was trying to use that thing to keep the school pure, do you?"

"Wouldn't surprise me…" She shrugged, waving her wand over the page again, relieving it of more ink. "Oh, Merlin."

"What?"

"Look…"

There printed on the page, just visible through the faded ink, Tom Riddle's name was listed as a known wizard who spoke Parseltongue, and behind his name was "You-Know-Who."

"Circe…" Blaise breathed.

"You don't think?" Hermione whispered, looking back to the smirking boy in the picture from the class of 1942 – 1943.

"We've got to warn the others. We've got to tell Dumbledore," Blaise said, grabbing Hermione's arm. "Pansy! If that thing is lurking around this school I don't want her alone!" He began to pull her out of the library, looking panicked. "You go to the great hall, tell them what we've learned, Dumbledore will know what to do, I'm going to Pansy."

"She's going to need help with that potion, go tell them yourself," Hermione said, biting her lip. "I'll help Pansy. Come on, we have to hurry."

As the library door swung shut, the Tom Riddle in the picture gave a silent, malicious laugh.

* * *

"Sweet Merlin!" Pansy yelped, jumping as Hermione came clambering into the room looking frazzled. "What are you… Circe, you scared me! Where's Blaise?" Her eyes widened as Hermione shut and latched the door behind them, spinning in a slow circle, looking at the windows and wash basins about the room.

"Chickens," she said. "We need chickens and roosters."

"What? Have you gone barking? Where's Blaise? What happened?" Pansy crossed the room, uncrossing her arms to grasp Hermione's shoulders, giving her a gentle shake to make her look at her. "Is Blaise okay?"

"Fine, he's fine. Perfectly fine. How's your transfiguration?"

"S'alright," Pansy said suspiciously. "Hermione. Where's my boyfriend?"

"He went back to the great hall with Ron. Can you transfigure a feather pillow into a chicken?"

"What is this all about?" Pansy asked, crossing her arms over her chest, looking quite cross. "Why didn't Blaise come back? It wasn't because he was snogging you and feeling guilty about it, was it? Because I'll wring both of your necks. Not that Blaise would _ever_ snog you, not when he's got me, anyway," Pansy fretted giving Hermione a once over with a critical eye.

"What? No!" Hermione said, waving her hands as she grabbed a feather pillow off of one of the beds in the wing and threw it toward Pansy. "No, no, we just…Look, we think Tom is actually Tom Riddle. And while that is a big deal, I'd rather deal with what I can solve."

"Wait. Who?"

"He-who-must-not-be-named."

"Voldemort, really?" Pansy asked, blinking with interest. Hermione shrieked.

"Don't say his name!"

"Why? It only has power if you give it power… And I refuse to give it that. But that doesn't explain the chickens or what is going on. What can you deal with with chickens, exactly?" She crossed her arms over her chest, her pillow lying forgotten on the bed next to her. Hermione huffed, tossing her pillow on the floor and turning to stare at the Slytherin girl, her hands on her hips.

"You are absolutely ridiculous. We have worse things to worry about than why I'm asking you to preform some simple magic!" At Pansy's silence she threw her hands up in frustration. "There's a Basilisk in the castle. We just don't know if it is on the move. And before you ask- it is a giant snake that can kill you just by looking at you, they're afraid of chickens. So make a bloody chicken."

"Jeez, you just had to ask." Pansy rolled her eyes, watching as Hermione waved her wand in a great arc over the pillow, and soon they had two clucking chickens walking around the hospital wing. "But I still want a detailed explanation as to how you found all this out, and I mean _detailed_."

* * *

**[AN: Also- I don't think this is all that out of character for Dumbledore- he often ran off to the ministry or trained students to work for him. The idea of Dumbledore's Army wasn't all that preposterous, really. Thoughts? LOVE Y'ALL!]**


	12. Chapter 12

**[AN: Chapter 12 (: Next chapter the action begins. The buildup is over, promise. Midterms are this week, so I may seriously die, but who knows. Spring Break next week! With a 9 hour flight, I'll get some wonderful writing done for sure (: Wish my luck on my exams, and PLEASE leave me your feedback, I love hearing it. Thanks to the fans that have favorited and added to their list. **

Draco pushed a hand through his hair in exasperation. The short trip from the tunnel to the final snake-speaking locked door was not as short as he thought (and hoped) it would be, and Potter didn't seem to be able to stop talking.

"Tell me, Chosen One," he finally snarled, spinning around to stare at the Gryffindor, who quickly shut up when Draco's wand was pointed at his nose. "Do you always talk so much when you're nervous? Or do you just like the sound of your own voice?"

"I don't… I don't know what you're going on about, Malfoy," Harry said, pulling his broad shoulders back, narrowing his eyes behind his stupid glasses. A sneer pulled up the corners of Draco's lips as he held the other young man's gaze.

"You've been talking about your bloody cousin getting locked in a snake exhibit in a zoo for the past 10 minutes and I am getting just a bit sick of listening to gush about his fat arse. So either stop talking or pick a new, more interesting subject."

"Unfortunately," Harry muttered as Draco turned back around, "the only thing you find interesting is yourself. And the only thing I really find interesting you won't talk about."

"Good God, man. Dumbledore said you could ask Ginny and she would tell you anything if she wanted to. Until then, I'm not telling you anything because it isn't any of your business. You know what your problem is? Its that you stick your nose in other people's business, you've been doing it since the very first day I met you in Madame Malkins."

"What?! You were the one being a complete prat!"

Draco waved his hand behind him, kicking a rock across the floor.

"Just speak some snake and let me through," he said, pointing to the door.

"Need some help for once?" Harry said, smirking. "Say please, Malfoy."

"You're shitting me right now, right?" Draco turned around, scoffing, a smirk on his face. "You're not? Alright then, I'll just hiss myself and make the door open."

"It doesn't work like that!" Harry shouted, running up to stand next to the blonde. "Just say please, is that so hard?"

"Is it so hard for you to be brave? All this time you're wasting is another minute that your best friend's sister is in danger. Tell the door to open and I'll finish the job you aren't man enough to do."

"What are you implying?" Draco laughed at the incredulous look on the other's face.

"I'm not blind, Potter, I've seen the way you look at Ginny Weasley. Its uncomfortable how hot you are for her, it is. You practically throw yourself at her and she barely notices you because someone else is already keeping her busy. I promise you that Ginny Weasley wouldn't waste her time with the likes of you, so after we get her out of here, do yourself a favor and back off."

"Oh, and she'd waste her time with the likes of you?" Harry spat. Raising his eyebrows, Draco shrugged.

"If she _was_ spending time with me, she certainly wouldn't be wasting her time. At least I'm not scared to face some shadows and help her out." Grabbing the collar of Harry's robes, he hauled him up to stand in front of the door. "Now say something in snake and stay here so that when I successfully bring Ginny back we can haul it out of here."

"Scared, Malfoy?"

"You wish."

Harry Potter rolled his eyes, an action not missed by his companion, who resisted the urge to smack the back of his head as Harry stared at the door, beginning to speak. Hissing echoed in the cavernous pipe, and Draco's eyes widened as the snakes that had been interlocked in a tight knot on the door began to hiss in response. Emerald eyes blinked and glittered back at the pair of them, bloody red tongues slicing in and out of their mouths before they began to move. Draco took an involuntary step back as the knot unwove itself forming a wreath around the large door.

"Your highness," Harry said sarcastically, stepping aside. A crack sounded as the door creaked open, clouds of dust falling down to the floor from the ancient stones.

From where they stood they could just hear the echoing of a scream, causing them to exchange glances.

"It is all you," Harry said, putting his hands up. "Go for it, hero." Sneering, Draco pushed the dark haired Gryffindor out of his way, his wand raised held at his side as he stalked through the doorway.

"Just stay here. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Right," Harry muttered, moving to lean against the doorway, rolling his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest.

It didn't take long to wander away from the door to the point where Draco could no longer feel Harry's eyes on the back of his head, and he let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing. The kid made him tense and nervous, constantly watching what he was doing and saying.

_He probably wants me to die while I'm down here,_ he thought with amusement, keeping his pace steady as he moved down the corridor, for that is definitely what it had turned into, his wand now raised to about chest height to keep an uneven glow cast in front of him like muggle headlights. On either side of him, flanking his steps, were huge marble pillars. Wrapped around the pillars were serpents, each coiled around and looking as if they could move at any moment. Instead of making the Slytherin boy feel at home in a pit of snakes, he felt uneasy, especially with the random bouts of screams that seemed to echo off of the unseen ceiling.

_I don't know if I can even blame him, though…_ A voice in his mind laughed. It sounded terribly like his father, and Draco stopped moving, closing his eyes to try and center himself. _You have been a complete prat your entire life. You've been a coward, a prick, and you can barely even face your ass of a best friend to tell him to stop hitting a girl. You stole Potter's love interest, you've made fun of him for losing his parents just because your own family life is awful. And now you're stealing his spotlight, of course he's going to want you to die so he can come out the hero, here._

"Shut up."

_You're a sniveling coward that would do anything you were told to do if a wand was pointed at your heart. You would bow before Voldemort if he asked you meanly enough. You don't stand up for anything in your life. Hah, I'll bet if he asked you to kill Dumbledore- the only wizard you really even respect beside Snape- you'd kill him just out of fear of your own hide._

"What am I doing now, then?"

_Flinching. Can't you feel your palms sweat? You're going to die. He will kill you, and you know it. Turn around. Run. Run._

"I'm standing up for her."

_Run. Listen to your fear. You can hear her screams- that is you. That will be you. He'll kill you for making her disloyal. He'll make you suffer and he'll make her watch you die. Do you want to bring more pain to her life? You're the one that caused all this to begin with._

"I'm trying to help her. No one else will."

_Potter would._

"Bloody noble Potter."

_At least he has always done what was right. You're just a damn Slytherin. A snake that crawls on its belly because even at the beginning of time according to Muggles you've been a cunning, sly liar that never looks out for the interest of others. You aren't doing this for her. You're trying to prove yourself worthy of some cause that has nothing to do with this. Just turn around and run, let Tom finish he job that you helped him start and keep being the snake you've always been. Look out for your own._

"She is mine."

He opened his eyes, looking around the cavernous chamber, as laughter echoed around him. He turned slowly, the voice in his mind still egging him on to run.

"She is mine, and I protect what is mine, viciously." Draco Malfoy licked his lips, running his free hand through his hair. "No one, not even myself, is going to tell me otherwise. I'm doing this for her."

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes again, relieved to find silence on the other side of his brain, the nagging voice shut up long enough to let him make some decisions.

"TOM! STOP IT! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

Ginny.

Unmistakably, undoubtedly, without a question that was Ginny Weasley. He was getting closer, very close, now that he could differentiate between words that well. Swallowing hard, Draco pushed himself forward before breaking into a run, and starting to sprint toward her scream, the wooden bottoms of his dress shoes sliding across the old stone floor that was slick with moisture and moss.

Breaking from the corridor and into the chamber, Draco let out a horrified gasp. At the far end of the chamber Salazar Slytherin's bust filled the entirety of the back wall, his mouth opened and yawning. And about 100 paces from where he stood, Ginny was lashed to one of the snake pillars, her body positioned in the open mouth of the beast, its fangs glistening in the weak light. Tom stood in front of her, his wand pressed to her scalp, Draco's eyes narrowed as he tried to make sense of the band he was seeing wrapped around her head.

He took slow steps forward, wand held in a defensive manner in the tight fist at this side, ready to react to any sort of booby trap or spell that Tom threw at him.

"Ah, Draco," Tom said quietly, looking up from his victim, "how pleasant that you've joined us. I'm sorry I haven't had time to clean up," he said gesturing about the chamber, probably referring to the scattered pages of the book he knew Ginny had been reading (unfortunately, the two of them had been reading it together, he'd found it amused Ginny to hear him play the part of Christian Grey, and it generally led to some steamy nights in the room of requirement). "I didn't think you'd mind though," Tom continued on, looking back to Ginny for a moment, using his wand free hand to caress her hair. "On behalf of both of us, Draco, welcome to the party."

* * *

"Ron, Ron Weasley, have you seen him?" Blaise Zabini had turned around at least 5 red heads in the process of looking for Ron. He had a feeling that they were the Weasley family that Dumbledore had said he would call in to be with Ron while they waited to hear from Draco on if Ginny had been rescued. They had all given him dirty looks when they recognized his Slytherin tie. He wasn't sure if it frustrated him more that they were more prejudiced than he was, or if he couldn't find Ron when he desperately needed to.

"Professor Snape!" He laughed in relief, rushing to the hook nosed potion master's side, grabbing his arm. "Professor Snape, I need to speak to you and Mcgonagall and Ron immediately. Do you know where they are?"

"Where have you been? I believe Dumbledore gave you strict instructions to stay with Mister Weasley," Snape said crossly, looking down at his panicked student.

"Library," Blaise said. "Look, its really important that I speak to the three of you. As soon as possible."

"We're still getting the housing arrangements finished up, Zabini. Perhaps if you had been here instead of gallivanting around in the library we would have finished by now." At his student's nervous and anguished look he sighed. "Stay here. Mister Weasley is speaking to his family now about his sister, and Professor Mcgonagall is with them, as he's in her house. I'm going to finish conjuring up sleeping arrangements and then they'll be right back over here." Blaise nodded, slouching back against the wall of the castle.

In his own panic to find Ron Weasley, he hadn't noticed the chaos that was the Great Hall. The four long tables had been pushed up against the walls, now, but what he had left of orderly lines of students had turned into mass groups. He could hear the shouting and name calling from here- Gryffindors getting on the Slytherins for causing something like this to happen, and Slytherins getting on Gryffindors for being cowardly when they should be strong, and then Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs taking sides in the battle. He shook his head, running a hand across his scalp, letting out a breath.

"Where have you been?"

"Ron!"

"Could've used you to keep these hooligans in line," Ron muttered, looking tired. His family stood off to the side, looking in Blaise's direction murderously.

"Right. Right, I'm sorry," he said. "Look, I have got to talk to you and Mcgonagall and Snape, _now_."

"Mcgonagall is trying to get the houses to stop fighting and Snape is trying to get everyone to settle down into orderly rows all while threatening to poison their pumpkin juice that is being passed around, so it may be awhile."

"Look, it involves your sister," Blaise said, standing up straighter, turning to completely face his companion. "I went up to check on Pansy and Granger when I vanished- which I'm sorry about- but your girlfriend was off her rocker about having to run off to the library to read some text book."

"_Hogwarts, a History_ probably," Ron said, giving a halfhearted smile. "What was she looking for?"

"We figured out who Tom is, Ron. I need to talk to you and the professors now."

"Who is Tom?" Ron asked, brow furrowing. "Dumbledore didn't tell us. Hermione's always been brilliant, but how did she even figure it out?"

"Severus said you needed to speak to me, Mister Zabini?" Blaise sighed in relief when the strict faced professor walked up to him, her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pursed in her usual fashion. Behind her, Snape was walking toward them, his black cloak billowing behind him like an angry cloud.

"Professor," Blaise said, "I'm sorry, I understand you're very busy, but I believe it is of the upmost importance that we keep everyone in this great hall. Locking the great hall down would probably be the best." Professor Mcgonagall rose an eyebrow with interest. "I found out, or, Hermione Granger, rather, found out that Tom is actually He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and that he can control."

"The professors were aware of this, Mister Zabini," his Head of House said grimly, cutting off his student. "The headmaster chose not to share that with you because he did not want to incite unnecessary panic. I have always said that Miss Granger is too nosy for her own good."

"He can control a basilisk!" Blaise said desperately. "Whatever he's planning to do isn't going to stay in the Chamber of Secrets, the students should honestly probably be evacuated while we still have a chance to get out."

"For whatever reason, Dumbledore seems to believe that Mister Malfoy has the ability to stop You-Know-Who, and that we are not to leave the school. Have some faith in your classmates. We are quite protected in the great hall, the school's faculty are about to place protective spells over the great hall so no one can enter or leave the Great Hall," Professor Mcgonagall said quietly. "It would serve the student body well if they did not hear you spouting about His presence in the school." She turned away from Blaise and moved toward the rest of the faculty that were talking in quite murmurs now that most of the students had settled down into the soft sleeping bags that had filled the great hall, eating off of the floating plates that had appeared about the room.

Grinding his teeth in frustration, Blaise turned away to grab a deep purple sleeping bag, when he felt a hand on his upper arm.

"Who did you say was down there with my sister?"

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Weasley," Blaise sighed, trying to shrug his hand off and failing.

"Did you say that You-know-fucking-who is down there with my sister? And Dumbledore trusted _Malfoy_ to take him down? Doesn't he know that Malfoy worships the pure blood king?"

"He doesn't," Blaise said, furrowing his brow in confusion. "His father does, sure, but Draco really doesn't want anything to do with blook purity shite."

"My sister is down there with Him, though?" Blaise bit his lip, before nodding.

"But its going to be okay, mate, really, it is."

"Don't mate, me," Ron snarled, ripping his shoulder away from Blaise's comforting touch. "Dumbeldore sent Draco bleeding _Malfoy_ down there to save my sister? That'll never happen, not with that pure blood lunatic off playing hero, if that's even what he's doing. I've got to get down there."

"Weasley, listen to yourself!" But Ron had already taken off toward the doors, tearing through the crowd. Blaise cursed under his breath, and then started after the redhead, glancing over his shoulder to see if the teachers had even started putting up the wards yet. "Ron! Merlin, get out of my way," he snarled at a first year who was trying to reach one of the floating plates just out of his reach. The boy whimpered, scampering out of the seventh years way as quickly as his short legs would allow him to. "Weasley!"

Breaking through the large doors to the great hall, Blaise spun in a quick circle before racing off toward the girls bathrooms down the corridor. Ron Weasley's bright red hair was gleaming in the candlelight of the hallways and he was only a few paces ahead of the long legged Slytherin.

Blaise groaned, pushing himself harder. He had always wished that wizards took running more seriously. While flying on a broom was always a good time, it was never quite like running for him, something he'd always been good at. Pumping his arms, he finally go close enough to grab the back of Ron's robes.

"Going down there isn't going to make anything better. You have got to trust Malfoy." Blaise watched as Ron wheeled around, cocking back his right arm and delivering a solid right hook to his jaw. As Blaise fell, Ron shoved him backwards into a suit of armor with a loud, echoing crash.

"I'm not going to sit around in the great hall and wait for my sister to die. You and I both know that Malfoy is as big of a Dark Lord worshiper as his father is, and I'm not chancing my sisters life on it. I should never have trusted any of you." And then he was gone.

"Fuck." Blaise groaned, holding his jaw, watching as Ron pushed open the door to the girls toilets. "Oh Merlin, Granger is going to kill me," he mumbled, pushing himself upright and limping toward the bathrooms to get his face sorted out before he ventured up to the hospital wing to be the bearer of bad news.

* * *

"What do you mean; Ron went down into the Chamber of Secrets?"

Hermione stared blankly at Blaise Zabini, only slightly satisfied when he flinched at the cold, empty tone of her voice.

"Its like I told you," he stuttered, the usual cool, collected façade completely gone as he stood before the lioness. "I told Professors Snape and McGonagall about You-Know-Who being Tom, and they told me they already knew. Ron freaked out that Dumbledore had Draco go down and save Ginny because he thinks that he's a blood purist like his father."

"Which he isn't," Pansy put in, quickly, looking worried as she steadied her wand over the potion they'd been making. Hermione had just taken her break when Blaise had walked in, and she had known instantly something was wrong. If her wand arm wasn't tired from being held aloft for thirty straight minutes it would be pointed directly at Blaise's chest. All the same, she was glad that she wasn't doing her shift now, because she would not be able to keep the temperature at a constant rate.

The potion that they had made for Ginny required to be kept at a constant temperature after it had been bottled; otherwise it would become very explosive. The headmaster had told them to simply use a warming and cooling spell to keep it at a constant state of Luke-warm happiness until Ginny and Draco arrived at the Hospital Wing. The girls had been planning on doing this in half hour increments and had been nervously watching the clock, counting the minutes since.

"And you let him go?" Hermione continued on icily, silencing Pansy with a glare that could put out the sun or melt glaciers before looking back to Blaise Zabini.

"No. I tried to reason with him, but he wasn't having it. Kept going on about how he couldn't trust Slytherins and how he had to go down there himself. I tried to catch him too," he put in hastily, "but he broke my jaw." Hermione rose her eyebrows infinitesimally, staring at the slightly swollen jaw that Blaise was still cradling and mumbling around. Pansy had been begging Hermione to heal it properly since they walked in, but she had wanted answers, first.

"I should break your jaw again," she snarled, turning around and grabbing her bag. "I cannot believe you let him go like that."

"There wasn't much more I could do!" Blaise said, desperate.

"You have a _wand_, Zabini!" Hermione seethed. "A wand!"

He flinched, looking down.  
"I didn't want to ruin any more trust he had in Slytherins by playing dirty."

"Oh, can it," Hermione growled. "You just weren't smart enough to think of that."

"Where are you going?" Pansy asked, looking up from her wand work as Hermione began to walk toward the door.  
"I'm not going to just leave him down there, Pansy. Your boyfriend should have chased him, not come up here like a dog with his tail between his legs."

"Hermione, you can't leave me, there's no way I'm going to be able to concentrate on this long enough, and you said we'd switch off and on!"

"Stop whining and make your boyfriend do it," Hermione said shortly, slamming the door behind her.

_Really, Ron can be a right git, sometimes_. She was exasperated as she rushed for the stairwell to race down. _But the fact that he can be a git doesn't mean I can just leave him down there to face Voldemort. But what he was thinking, oh, I don't know._

"You're all just having a party without me, aren't you?"

Hermione looked up as she pushed open the bathroom door.

"Hello, Myrtle."

"Not even going to bother inviting me, are you?" The ghost girl asked miserably, floating gently to the ground to land in front of Hermione.

"It isn't a party, Myrtle," Hermione said, moving to edge around the ghost.

"Sure it isn't, now you're just lying to me."

"Please, please Myrtle, don't start crying," Hermione said, hedging on desperation.

"Everyone hates Myrtle," the ghost girl sobbed. "No one likes Myrtle. Everyone lies to Myrtle."

"Oh dear," Hermione whispered as Moaning Myrtle zoomed up into the air and then whooshed down into a toilet bowl, splashing water all over the stall. Cringing, the Gryffindor rushed toward the entrance to the chamber, stopping to look at the hole in through with interest.

"Amazing how they kept it hidden for so long, it isn't exactly a perfect hiding spot." Shaking her head, she sent her bag down first, gripped her wand, and then jumped down the dark, steep pipe.


	13. Chapter 13

"Expelliarmus!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Draco," Tom sneered, "you know I can read your mind the minute you think it. You _know_ that. We've been _practicing _it. You've just never been as good." As he spoke, Tom whipped his wand around, the point where it had been in contact with Ginny's head ripping off of her skin. The wreath that had formed gave a terrifying snap, a light flashing around her. It was the effect Draco was hoping to have, maybe this way whatever was going on had stopped, but as Tom blocked his disarming charm, it rebounded, hitting the cracked stone at his feet. Draco yelped as he was thrown backward in a shower of debris. His wand clattered to the floor a few feet behind him.

"Get up," Tom snarled, his upper lip curled into an ugly sneer. "Get up. I shouldn't give you this, I should just kill you and let it be done, but we were friends once. Your father took care of me, I thought you would join my ranks someday, I thought you would be great help, eventually, I thought you would be a good friend, a good soldier. But a woman always gets in the way." He stalked toward Draco with slow, measured steps, his prey's heart was pounding in his chest, as he scrambled backward like a crab, on his hands and feet, still facing Tom. Blindly, the blond felt behind him for his wand, growling under his breath. "Get up, I'll give you a fair fight. I'll stay out of your head. But I'll still win." As he walked, he cracked his neck, a wicked smile starting to tug up the corners of his thin, pink lips.

As he continued to pace forward, his eyes widened a fraction, and the thin smile on his lips faltered, slightly.

"You've been practicing," he said quietly, giving a mirthless laugh. "With a little more practice you'd be a skilled Occulmens." Tom tsked his tongue, shaking his head slowly. "You should have taught this scarlet woman over here, that. It may have just saved her today. Though, perhaps not, if it would have interested me too much."

From behind him, Draco's fingers curled around the handle of his wand, but he continued to shuffle backward, his eyes, for only a second or two, flitting from Tom's to Ginny's figure. She was slumped against the pillar, her red hair spilling down around her face and down her shoulders, blocking her profile from view. He could just see the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she pulled in ragged breaths. It was a relief just to know she was breathing.

"What did you do to her?" Draco asked, keeping his voice, and his face, carefully cold, neutral, and blank. He met Tom's gaze with his own steady one, slowly pulling his body up into a crouched position, his hands and back black from the muck on the floor. His wand hummed between his fingers of his right hand. Tom smirked.

"You would like to know, wouldn't you?" He kept his wand trained on Draco Malfoy's chest, that smirk still pulling on his lips. "It's a complicated little spell," he said, his voice a quiet purr. "I created it myself. A bit of a memory charm. Shame you won't be around when she wakes up, I would enjoy your reaction to the effects."

"What did you do, Tom?" Draco asked again, pushing himself up to a standing position, his cool reserve was fading quickly, as he threw his shoulders back, anger and anxiousness pulsing through his blood.

"You know how jealous I can get, Draco," Tom said quietly. "I just… adjusted her memories a bit."

"Adjusted them?"

Tom laughed. A booming, echoing laugh that bounced off of the walls of the chamber. For a moment, he was transformed, and Draco lost sight of the man he thought he was once his friend.

In the dim lighting of the chamber of secrets, Tom's thin, pale face grew sallower, shadows casting on his cheeks, making them look sunken. He turned his head sideways as he laughed, his body contorting backwards, his wand leaving Draco's chest for the shortest of moments as his eerie laugh continued. His eyes flashed red, and his teeth seemed to turn black. He looked frighteningly like a skull, like death.

"STUPIFY!"

In Tom's moment of mania, Draco threw his wand arm in a great slash across his body, screaming the stunning spell. In a flash, Tom was upright again, waving his wand in an arc to the left, though he still flew backwards with a yell. His laughter was still echoing through the cavern, mixing with the awful scream and the yelled spell. Draco's chest was heaving, keeping an eye on Tom, he ran toward Ginny's stilling form, skidding to his knees and shaking her shoulders, his wand tucked carefully into his belt.

"Ginny, Ginny, wake up," he whispered, pushing her hair out of her face, running his hand across her scraped and bleeding cheek, brushing his thumb gently under her eye. "Wake up," he whispered again, finding her wrist to feel for her pulse, relieved when he felt the gentle fluttering there, so relieved that he brought her wrist to his mouth to give it a gentle kiss. As his fingers began to work under the glowing band that held her ankles and wrists against the pillar, Tom stood, slowly dragging the back of his hand across his mouth with a grimace. "What did he do to you?" Draco whispered, tugging on the glowing golden cord, wondering what kind of magic it would take to make it budge. He had just brushed Ginny's cheek with a feather of a kiss when a hand gripped his shoulder in a tight squeeze.

"Did you really think it would be that easy?" Draco crumpled, his body rocking with spasms as Tom held his wand so it was directed between the blond's eyes, using silent magic to torture his old companion. "Did you think you could take me down so quickly, after I had just finished telling you I had created my own spell? After I had made something so powerful she has actually had memories _deleted_ from her mind?" He laughed, giving Draco a moment's reprieve as he convulsed and heaved on the floor. "The best part is, even if you did manage to wake her up, _she won't remember you._"

Draco had rolled onto his stomach at this point, carefully and quietly retrieving his wand from where it stayed protected in the space between his belt and his waistband. He lay still a moment longer as Tom laughed, much like the first time, his face reverting back to something less than human. With a snarl, Draco hurled a curse at Tom from his place on the floor, quickly rolling out of the way as Tom parried the blow.

"You can't expect me to fight you like this. You had a pretty cheap shot earlier, I'll admit, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to give you once last chance to fight like a man," Tom said, quietly, his voice a gentle purr. "Come on, fight for your fair maiden. I've always loved a tragedy after all. Maybe all the noise will wake her up, who knows? Her mind is trying to heal itself right now, and its an impossible mission."

If he had been an old man it would have been impossible, if he hadn't been filled with so much hate it would have been impossible, if adrenaline hadn't been pumping through his veins, he wasn't sure he would have been able to push himself up off the floor, his muscles still crying with protest from the short, but immense pain of the torture of the curiacticus curse. Rolling his shoulders he stared at Tom, snarling as he blocked the first jinx Tom casually tossed his way.

It was like watching a cat play with a mouse, or even better, a wild west showdown. The two stood, about fifty paces from each other, their eyes constantly flickering from the other's eyes to their wands that were held loosely at their sides or gripped in front of them nervously. It really could be any man's game. Fast draw. Whoever cast the faster jinx first, the tension in the room could be sliced with a knife.

"_LEVICORPUS_!"

"_CASCADA!"_

As jets of light left their respective owners wand tips, there was a loud explosion, and while the boys kept fighting, hurling jinxes and curses one after the other at their opponent, a loud crack went unheard by the duelers. Along the moist walls and dark ceiling, a jagged gash appeared in the stone, running down the length of the wall. Fingers formed off of the main split, spilling out across the walls. For a moment, the room trembled, shaking along the crack, and dust and rubble began to fall from the ceiling. It went completely unnoticed by the boys.

It was to this; the showers of debris form the high ceiling, the yelling and grunting of the fighting men, and the sparks and flashes of wand light as jinxes and spells were exchanged that Ginny Weasley awoke. The utter confusion and chaos of the moment only managed to frighten the already confused and pained girl, and soon her screaming wails were added to the general din of the chamber.

"You think you can beat me?" Tom snarled, the gleam in his eyes one that Draco recognized well. "You think you can best the greatest wizard of all time? What a laugh!"

"Don't think so highly of yourself, Tom!" Draco shouted back, "if anything, you're a pathetic excuse for a _man_!"

"You don't even know who you're talking to!" Tom snarled. "You don't even know what kind of power you stand before. I _am_ the greatest wizard in this world! And soon I'll be able to rise to full power once again, soon, soon, I shall rid the world of blood impurities and make it fit for a pureblood race to live. You used to agree with me, Draco." Tom stalked forward, his wand trained on Draco, who had folded in on himself on the ground, gritting his teeth around the pressure of what felt like ropes binding around his entire body. "Don't you even have a semblance of an idea of who I am?" Draco gritted his teeth, staring up at the man. "Tom _Riddle_, Draco. I am Lord Voldemort."

* * *

"Hermione?"

"Ronald Bilius Weasley just _what_ do you think you're doing, running down here when Dumbledore told you to stay upstairs?!" Both Harry and Ron cringed at the slightly shrill voice of Hermione Granger as she trudged toward them through the skeletal remains of the vermin that had met their demise down under the dungeons.  
"'Mione," Ron said weakly when she walked up to him. "How did you find out I was down here?" He quickly took her hands in his own, rubbing her clenched fingers with his thumbs soothingly, trying to calm her down. "You really should go back upstairs and help Pansy with her potions, isn't she hopeless at them?"

"Blaise told me you were down here, and Pansy is not hopeless with potions," Hermione sniffed, watching as her boyfriend gently rubbed the palms of her hands.

"Well, you can't expect me to not come try and save her after finding out _You-Know-Who_ was down here with her, did you?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"You've never been good at listening to the rules," she muttered, "ever since first year you've been trying to get us all killed, or worse, expelled." Behind Ron, Harry snorted, staring down the dark chamber, still propped up where the door had been, his arms crossed over his tense chest.

"You've got to get your priorities straight, Hermione," Ron said, unable to stop the small smile from tugging on his lips.

"You've got to start thinking with your head," she muttered, as Ron crushed her lips to his own. Her fingers wound in his bright hair, and she clung onto him, burying her head in his shoulder. "You don't even know what all is down here, you're hopeless, what if you'd been killed?"

"Get a room, you two," Harry muttered, running a hand through his unruly hair. "Its hard enough knowing that Draco bloody Malfoy went after Ginny instead of me, now do you have to make me play third wheel?" Hermione pulled away from Ron, glancing over his shoulder to stare at Harry, her eyes narrowed.

"That was never our intention, Harry," she said quietly, glancing up at Ron. "Besides, there's more than just a powerful wizard down here with more jealousy and angst than your average teenager."

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked, moving to stand behind Hermione, his arms wrapped contentedly around her waist, he had stooped down to rest his chin on the top of her head.

"He can speak snake, Harry," Hermione said slowly, "like you can. And Salazar Slytherin has been hiding a creature down here for centuries. A basilisk."

"A what?"

"It's basically a giant snake," she went on, her voice carefully measured, treading gently around Harry's mood. "I don't know if Tom is going to use it, or if it is still alive, but it has huge poisonous fangs, and it can kill you if you look at it."  
"What?" Both Harry and Ron asked, incredulous.

"Don't you two remember our second year here?" Hermione asked. "The last time the chamber was opened? All those people became."

"Petrified, not dead, Hermione," Harry said, finally turning around to look at the girl, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Yes, Harry, I realize that, if you catch the animal's eyes in a _reflection _you are only petrified," she said, quietly, "I don't know what Tom is going to do with it, but…"

"You mean that my sister is not only down there with You-Know-Who, but with a giant snake that can kill her as well?" Ron asked, his chin gently digging into the top of Hermione's head as he did so. Harry snorted.

"At least it isn't a giant spider."

"Hey!" Ron started, his eyes narrowing on his friend.

"Shh!"

Harry had suddenly straightened up, throwing his hand behind him in a motion to quiet his friends. He held his wand at an arms length at his chest, his eyes and glasses flashing as he stared down the long corridor. The two behind him exchanged another glance, and Ron moved to take a step forward when they heard it, too. It started out quietly at first, a small explosion, and then it grew louder, mingled with the angry yells and shouts of young men. A fight. Harry's back slouched and he heaved a deep breath. No screams, Ginny, so far, wasn't involved.

"Wait," Ron whispered, moving to stand next to his friend, towering over Harry, and leaving Hermione feeling quite alone behind the boys without Ron standing behind her and protecting her. "Can you hear that?" They stood there, looking the part of a predator stalking its prey as they listened, their silhouettes visible in the doorway they were standing in. Hermione remained behind them, the color slowly draining from her face. "Do you hear that?" Ron asked, head tilted to the side. "That isn't, that isn't Ginny, is it?" His voice was hoarse.

Just in the undertones of the fight, which had been lulling and raising in volume for a better part of an hour, now, you could hear the keening of a girl. Something in Ron's brain snapped and he snarled, lunging forward, his face contorted into a growl.

"Ron!" Harry grabbed his arm, hauling his red headed friend back into the doorway, pushing him into the wall, and holding him there. "We can't just go running in there all helter skelter, we need to think about this," Harry said, holding his wild eyed friend by the shoulders. "We need to be taken seriously." Hermione came up behind Harry, reaching around him to take Ron's hand.

"Ron, remember who you're facing here, we don't know if it is a trick or not."

"That's my sister, Hermione," Ron growled, staring at Harry. "We've got to go help. If that really his he-who-must-not-be-named then we can't just sit here and do _nothing_. Draco Malfoy isn't going to defeat him by himself," his voice took on a desperate edge, "I have to help her, you have to let me help her."

Hermione and Harry exchanged a nervous glance, both of them wincing as another anguished scream filled the space between them.

"Alright, Hermione you stay here."

"What?!"

"Someone need to keep this door open," Harry said, turning to stare at an exasperated Hermione. "You can try to figure out how we're going to get out of here, too, alright?" Ron perked up a bit where he was standing, looking hopeful. "You and I," Harry said, then, turning to his best friend, "are going to go and help him, alright?"  
Ron nodded, and Harry slowly released him.  
"But we're doing this together, Ron, you go that?"

"Yeah, I got it," Ron said, shrugging his shoulders to readjust his sweater that had been pushed askew when Harry had grabbed him. He turned to look at Hermione, who had her arms crossed stubbornly and was staring down the corridor, pointedly ignoring the two boys. Ronald leaned forward, carefully taking her face in his hands, and kissed her. "I'll be back for you," he said, grinning, before starting through the door.

"Harry Potter," the girl said stiffly, watching as the messy haired boy turned back toward her. "If you don't bring him back I'll…I'll…"

"We'll both come back, Hermione," Harry said, giving her a lopsided grin, "we always do."

* * *

Draco Malfoy couldn't concentrate.

He was bent over at Ginny Weasley's feet, unable to straighten or relieve the pressure of the weight on his back. She was screaming, incoherent screams of pain. Between her cries she would plead with Tom to leave her along, to get out of her mind, to stop hurting her, that she just wanted to go home. His head felt like it was about to be split open. As far as he was concerned, Draco was the object of Tom's torture, and he grit his teeth against the dizzying pain, his fingers struggling toward the belt loop that his wand was fastened in. If he could just reach it.

Voldemort, because that's who Tom really was ('_The guy has a some sort of complex, Merlin, if he thinks that's who he is,') _was still talking, his voice was low and soft. He split his time and speech between Ginny Weasely, crooning to her that it was almost over, love, that the pain was just the beginning of her death, and that he wouldn't let it go on forever, and between Draco Malfoy who he continued to repeat his blood purity speech.

"Your father would be greatly disappointed, you know," he was saying, walking around his prey in a slow circle, his eyes never leaving Ginny Weasley's figure unless it flipped toward Draco, a sneer on his thin lips. "You told me when I first started with the bird, you told me that she and her family were blood traitors and that your father would never approve. It wasn't that he didn't approve, he just didn't understand at first. I was supposed to kill her, you see, it would have been a huge blow for the Weasley family, they wouldn't have known what to do with themselves." Draco simply grunted in response, finally feeling the cool wood of his wand as he wrapped his fingers around the base of it, wishing he could get Tom out of his head long enough to straighten up.

"I think, really, that that's why you went after her this year. You were jealous that your father had approved of me but not of you. You were sick of him telling you to get back together with Pansy, you were sick of him sneering at all the of the pretty young things your brought back to the manor to parade in front of your father and mother in hopes of their approval. What a complex you have, Draco, its comical, really."

Draco let out a sigh, giving into some more of the pressure on his back, feeling his spine pop and crack as he bowed even further over his knees, his cheek touching the cool flagstone of the floor. He wasn't giving up, not yet, but he wasn't sure what was going to happen. Whatever spells Tom was using, they weren't ones that Draco himself knew. He closed his eyes, trying to stop listening to the boy's tirade above him, trying to block out Ginny's screams, wishing he could cut her down and help fix whatever was going on in her head. But he wasn't sure, he didn't know. His heart hammered in his chest as something in his brain clicked that when Tom killed him, because that was surely his old friend's intent, it would not be the quick green flash of light of an unforgivable, but it would be painfully, like this. It would be slow and torturous. He would break his back, break his neck, he would make it hurt; make him helpless.

It was with his cheek, there, pressed to the ground, letting the rest of the world bleed out in a swirl of meaningless colors and symbols, that he first felt it.

You couldn't hear anything over the commotion in the chamber, but he could _feel_ something on the ground. Someone was coming toward them, running through the dark stones of the corridor. _Please Merlin,_ Draco thought a little deliriously, _please let it be Dumbledore or Potter._ If he could have, he would have laughed at the ridiculousness of the thought of his greatest enemy coming to his aid, but he didn't have the breath to do so.

He opened his eyes again, listening. Ginny had stopped screaming. She was panting now, whimpering, and Tom had stopped circling, standing still, his wand still on Draco, obviously, as was evidenced by the weight on his back and the pain still splintering its way through his head. Yes. He could hear the running now. It was closer. Who was it? Who was coming? What was going on?

"Expelliarmus!"

The weight was lifted off of Draco Malfoy's back, but he stayed there for a moment, before easing himself up, letting all of his disks pop back into place, his whole body was shaking.

"Alright?"

A hand was hovering in front of his face, swimming in his vision out of nowhere, and it was covered in freckles. He looked up into the face of Ronald Weasley, who was offering him his hand. Without further hesitation, Draco grabbed his hand, and helped to pull himself up onto his shaking legs.

"Yeah," he said, giving a quick nod.

"Good. C'mon, lets finish this," he said, nodding toward the figure of Tom Quandary (or was it Riddle?) that was staggering upright some 20 feet from them.

"But, your sister."

"Harry's got her. Come on."

Draco glanced behind him at Ginny. Harry was at her side, gently touching her cheeks and brushing the hair and tears off of her face. She was still shaking, still crying, but her eyes had yet to open.

"Right," Draco said, pushing down the jealous bile that had quickly risen in his throat "Right."

"Do you really think you can beat me?!" Tom yelled, his arms thrown back as he screamed, his face turning red with anger. "I am the _strongest _wizard in the world. Blood traitors and mudbloods will bow before me out of fear and purists will worship me!"

"We've got one purist right here who isn't," Ron said, cracking his neck. "Sounds like a lot of bark and no bite."

"_SECTUMSEMPRA!" _Ron actually flinched, turning to look behind him at Draco Malfoy, who as still shaking as he began to throw jinx after jinx at their foe. Ron shook his head with the smallest of laughs before he quickly joined in.

* * *

"Alright, Ginny, you just need to open your eyes for me," Harry whispered, his chest brushing against hers as he moved, his hands stretched above his head as he carefully worked on the golden ropes. He'd been toying with them with his wand since he'd come to her side, and had eventually learned that his wand acted like a knife against the glowing cord. A very, very dull knife, but a knife that cut the rope, none-the-less. "Open your eyes, Gin, its me, Harry, its Harry. Ron is down here too, and Malfoy, we're going to get you out of here, okay?"

He glanced behind him, using his shoulder to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose; they had started to slip from the sweat from running down here with Ron. Ron and Draco seemed to be handling their own, which was perfectly fine with Harry, he didn't want to leave Ginny's side. He pulled his arms down and growled in frustration as he glared at the frayed rope that was taking forever to slice through. While he rubbed the muscles in his arms, he looked more closely at Ginny.

Her face was swollen, and one of her eyes had a large purple shiner. But, what really caught his attention, was the faint line that wrapped around her skull. It shimmered like the memories that were put into the penseive did, though didn't brush away when he touched it, her body did, however, flinch when his fingers came into contact with it, as if it were a great shiny bruise.

"What did he do to you, Gin?" Harry whispered, reaching up to work his fingers under the hot rope and start to saw away at it again. "Open your eyes and tell me, we're all here for you, you're going to be safe, soon, we'll get you out of here, I swear. Wake up."

This time she started to shake her head, and Harry narrowed his eyes in confusion, looking down from his work to stare at the red head.

"Now I know you can hear me, you know, open your eyes. Talk to me, what's wrong? Does anything hurt?"

"My head…"

Now, up until this point, the youngest Weasley had been fairly silent, her screaming fit had stopped, and her sobbing had slowed down to shudders. Her voice had been whittled down to a croak.

"Your head, your head what?" Harry asked, dropping down to stay on her level, gently taking her chin in his hand, watching her. "Your head, what, Ginny? Does it hurt?" He watched as her eyes fluttered open, red and glassy.

"I… My head… I can't," she gave a huge shuddering sob, slowly turning her head to get a look at her surroundings. "What is going on? Where am I?"

"Shit," Harry whispered, staring at her as her body began to shake more violently. "Just… Just stay calm, Gin, we've almost got you out of here. I've already got your feet loose, let me just, hold on." He sprang back up, sawing at the rope with a new vigor.

"Where's Tom?" She asked quietly, looking around the gloomy chamber toward the source of the noise. "What's going on?"

And that's really when it happened. Harry could see from here, just barely, that Ron and Malfoy had dropped pretense of being wizards and were holding Tom at close point, alternating between physical and magic fighting. And yet, Tom was still fighting back. Harry watched as he aimed a particularly nasty hex at Draco Malfoy, who shielded himself just in time to send the spell ricocheting off of him and toward the ceiling. The room shook, shuddered really, and Harry who had just gotten Ginny to the ground, quickly moved the cover her, screaming at Ron all the while.  
"RON! GET OUT OF THERE! MOVE!"

Malfoy tugged on Ron's arm, shoving him toward Harry and his sister, looking back at Tom, torn. Ron nodded, turning back with Draco, starting to move toward the stunned form of Tom Quandary.

"LEAVE HIM!" Harry screamed, though it seemed like he was in a tunnel, a vacuum, where he couldn't hear anything but himself, and where no one could hear him either. "LEAVE HIM, COME ON!"

Rubble had begun to fall, a sort of chasm was opening, separating Ron and Draco from Tom, and Ron finally tugged on Draco's arm, pulling him away from the young man that was once his best friend and toward Harry and Ginny. He seemed to be yelling, telling him that there was nothing we could do, that they had to move _now_. They stooped to grab something up off the ground as they ran, sprinting toward the pair just within the safety of the rock slide.


End file.
